"About a day and a half," replied Sam, "possibly less."

"You don't mean it?"

"Don't I? What do I mean, then?"

"How far is it?"

"Less than a hundred miles."

"Well, we can't go a hundred miles in a day and a half."

"Can't we? I think we can. We'll run day and night, you know, and the
current, at this stage of the water, can't be much less than five
miles an hour. Four miles an hour will take us ninety-six miles in
twenty-four hours."

"Hurrah for Captain Sam!" shouted Sid Russell, "Yonder's the river,
an' she's a runnin' like a mill tail, too."

Sid was standing up, and his great length lifted his head high enough
to permit him to see the rapidly running stream long before any one
else did. The rest strained their eyes, or rather their necks trying
to catch a glimpse of the stream, but the undergrowth of the swamp lay
between them and the sight. Sid's announcement put new energy into
them, however, and they plied their paddles vigorously for ten
minutes, when, with a sudden swing around a last curve of the creek,
Sam brought his boat fairly out into the river, and turned her head
down stream. The river was full to its banks, and in places it had
already overflowed. The current was so strong that the mouth of the