Nick found a long branch, which answered for a pole with which to guide
the raft, and stepping on it he began pushing it along shore as rapidly
as he could, looking into the gloom about him and often pronouncing the
name of his sister. His heart sank within him when this continued
several minutes, and half the circuit of the pond was completed without
bringing him the first evidence of the whereabouts of Nellie.
Finally he paused, wearied and distressed beyond description.
The darkness of night rested on Shark Pond and the surrounding woods.
The murky volumes of smoke seemed to shut out all light, excepting when
the tongues of fire shot through them. The wind blew a gale, stirring
the water into tiny waves, and the roaring of the fire through the
woods, the sound of trees crashing to the earth, and the millions of
sparks, with blazing bits of wood, were carried a great distance
through the air. Some of these flaming brands fell on the raft on which
Nick Ribsam stood, and they continually dropped hissing into the water
around him.
The problem was, how the children had escaped thus far; and as the
sturdy lad stood out on the pond with the long limb grasped in his hand,
staring around him, he could not but wonder how it was he had been
preserved after driving directly into the forest when it was literally
aflame from one end to the other.
But these thoughts were only for the moment; he had left Nellie, not
expecting to be out of her sight, much less beyond her hearing, and she
had vanished as mysteriously as if the earth had opened and swallowed
her up.
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