The Mandie Collection (35 page)

“God will help us,” Mandie assured her friend.

“I know. I just hope it's soon. I'm hungry,” Joe moaned.

Suddenly the boat lurched and turned toward the riverbank, picking up speed. Then it slammed into the brush growing on the bank by the water.

“Grab something! Quick!” Joe cried. He stood up to snatch at the bushes. The boat almost turned over.

Mandie dropped Snowball in the bottom of the boat and tried to reach the limbs, ignoring the wobbling boat beneath her feet.

The boat kept swirling. Every time Mandie and Joe tried to grab the bushes, the boat would suddenly move too far away. Finally Joe managed to get a limb in his hand, but it was dead and broke right off the bush. Mandie snatched at the leaves on another branch, and the dead leaves crumbled away.

“Keep trying!” Joe yelled.

“I can't reach far enough to get hold of anything!” Mandie yelled back.

The boat moved a little nearer the bank. Then suddenly it whirled back out into the current. Mandie and Joe, thrown off balance by the quick movement, fell onto the seat together. The boat continued on down the river.

Joe bent to scoop up Snowball and handed him to Mandie.

“Oh, Joe, what a shame! We were so close to the bush but we couldn't reach it,” Mandie said, her voice quivering.

“Maybe the boat will do that again,” Joe encouraged. “And maybe next time we'll have better luck.”

The boat continued on its way. So many trees grew along the riverbanks that it was impossible to see whether there were any houses or anyone who might happen to see them and come to their rescue. The leaves were turning yellow, orange, red, and brown but were not yet falling from the trees. The two young people clung to the boat as the current swerved it about on the river.

“I didn't realize there were so many curves in this river,” Mandie remarked as they rounded a big bend.

“That's probably because you've never been out on it before,” Joe said.

“I hope this is the last time,” Mandie replied as Snowball snuggled under her arm in fright.

When the river straightened out again, Joe suddenly pointed toward the trees. “Look.” he cried. “There's a man over there.”

Mandie looked up. She tried waving but the rocking boat made it impossible for her to take her hand from the side. “Help! Help us!” she yelled as loudly as she could. But her cry was lost in the wind. The man didn't seem to notice, and the boat quickly moved on by.

“I don't think he heard you,” Joe said.

“I know,” Mandie replied. “We've got to do something. We can't just keep on going like this. We may be thrown out of the boat!”

“I know, but what can we do?” Joe asked, frustrated.

“We can pray again,” Mandie suggested.

“You pray,” Joe urged.

“Dear God, please help us!” Mandie began, looking toward the sky. “Please forgive me for all the trouble I've caused. I'm so sorry. Please help us get back to our parents. I know they're worried to death by now. Please forgive me, and please help us!”

“Amen,” Joe added.

The wind blew strongly in their faces, and Mandie shivered a little.

“We'll be all right, Joe. I know God will help us,” Mandie said.

As Mandie spoke, the boat slowed down and stopped wobbling, but it was still in the middle of the big river.

Mandie looked up into the sky. “Thank you, Lord! Thank you! Every little bit helps!”

Mandie looked at Joe. “I believe we're going to get out of this predicament somehow,” she said.

“I think you're right, but I'm getting awfully hungry,” Joe said. At that moment the boat hit another strong current. It picked up speed and slammed around in the river.

Mandie gasped.

“Hold on!” Joe shouted.

The boat swirled and headed for the riverbank again.

“Grab something when we hit the bank!” Joe yelled.

“I'll try.” Mandie yelled back.

When the boat came close to the riverbank, the two waited for a chance to grab some of the bushes growing along the edge. The boat slowed down and hovered just out of reach of the limbs.

Mandie scanned the bushes. “I hear a dog, Joe. Listen.”

The sound of barking rapidly grew louder.

“I hope someone is with the dog,” Joe said, watching closely.

Just then a huge black-and-white shaggy dog jumped out of the bushes and sat on the edge of the riverbank, barking.

“Help! Help us!” Joe shouted.

The dog just sat there, barking. No one came to investigate.

Then the boat quickly turned and was pulled by the current out into the middle of the river again, causing Joe and Mandie to fall back down on the seat. Mandie grabbed the frightened kitten by the tail and pulled him onto her lap.

As the runaway boat raced down the river, Mandie and Joe looked at each other.

“God will save us,” Mandie insisted in a nervous voice.

“It's just not time yet I guess,” Joe surmised.

They smiled bravely, but the two grew colder and hungrier as they floated on down the river. Snowball never stopped meowing and hours seemed to go by.

Then all of a sudden, what they feared most happened! The boat slammed toward the riverbank again, striking an old dead limb sticking out into the water.

There was no time to think. The boat overturned, throwing Mandie and Joe into the water. Snowball leaped out, landing on the dead limb.

Mandie began to sink. “Help me.” Mandie coughed as she got a mouthful of water.

Joe, an expert swimmer, quickly swam to her side, grabbed hold of her, and tried to swim toward land.

“Get Snowball!” Mandie cried, pointing to the kitten perched on the dead limb.

When Joe tried to reach him, Snowball dashed up the log, hopped onto the land, and disappeared into the bushes.

“At least we know he didn't drown!” Joe yelled above the slosh of the water as he tried to tow Mandie to safety.

The overturned boat bounced around them and then suddenly struck them both hard. Both Joe and Mandie were stunned for a moment. Joe shook the water out of his eyes, held on to Mandie, and tried to make his way toward solid ground.

When they finally reached the safety of the bank, they found the dirt so slippery that they had trouble climbing out of the water.

“I'll push you up,” Joe offered. “Grab whatever you can up there so you won't fall back down.”

Mandie nodded as Joe grabbed her firmly around the waist and shoved her upward. Mandie grasped at the weeds on the bank, but they came uprooted in her hands, and she fell back down into the water.

“Sorry, Joe,” she gasped.

“Try again,” Joe urged, giving her another boost.

Mandie reached again but could not catch hold of a thing. She started crying and slid back down, floundering in the water.

“I'm going to drown!” she screamed, becoming hysterical.

“No!” Joe slapped her cheek with a wet hand.

Mandie instantly stopped crying and stared at him.

“I'm sorry, but I had to do that. Now grab something this time—anything. Just grab something,” Joe commanded.

Mandie took a deep breath and nodded.

Joe pushed her up out of the water again. This time Mandie grasped the strong limb of a bush and managed to scramble up the slippery bank, slipping and falling in the wet mud. Joe pulled himself up out of the water and the two worked their way up to firm ground where they fell, exhausted and chilled to the bone.

“Thank you, dear God,” Mandie whispered as she passed out right there in the weeds.

Gasping for breath, Joe, too, lost consciousness.

The wind blew hard, and the air became colder, but the two young people didn't feel a thing. As the sky dimmed, the overturned boat floated downstream and finally sank.

Mandie and Joe did not stir.

CHAPTER NINE

FORGIVENESS

The men were still at the mine, debating what to do next after Uncle Ned had assured them the footprints led directly to a boat.

“Why don't we split up?” John Shaw suggested. “Dr. Woodard, can you whistle really loud?”

Dr. Woodard placed two fingers in his mouth and answered with a loud, piercing whistle.

“Fine,” said Uncle John. “Would you stay here at the mine in case Joe and Amanda come back. You can give us a whistle, and we'll be back in a flash.”

Dr. Woodard agreed.

“Uncle Ned, maybe you can search upstream and Dimar can come with me,” John continued. “We'll go in opposite directions along the banks of the river to see if we can spot a boat.”

“Take lanterns,” Uncle Ned suggested, picking up one of the lanterns by the mine.

“Good idea,” John replied. “It's not dark yet, but it might be before we get back, so we'll divide up the lanterns among us.”

Dimar picked up one and left the third for Dr. Woodard. “I will carry this one for us,” Dimar offered.

“I'll be glad to stay here and wait for Joe and Amanda,” Dr. Woodard said. “Since they left their ponies, maybe they will come back here—if they can.” There was a slight tremor in his voice as he spoke.

“We find them,” Uncle Ned assured the doctor.

“I'd say that we should turn back when the sun starts to go down,” John suggested. “By that time we will have walked a good distance, and if we don't find them by then, we'll get a boat and go out on the river.”

“You don't have a boat around here anywhere, do you?” Dr. Woodard asked.

“No, we'll have to ride a long way down the river to the dock where I keep one. It's too far to walk right now,” John replied.

Uncle Ned handed Dr. Woodard his rifle. “Take gun,” he said. Dr. Woodard started to refuse.

“Uncle Ned is right,” John assured him. “We don't know what kind of people we're dealing with. You may have to use it.”

“But I don't think I could–”

“Have the rifle ready anyway, just in case,” John stated. “It is loaded, isn't it?”

Uncle Ned nodded. “Ready,” he said.

“I hope that's not necessary,” John replied. “If you see or hear anything at all, Doctor, give us your whistle.”

Dr. Woodard agreed.

“ 'Nuff talk. Go! Make haste!” Uncle Ned headed upstream.

“Come on, Dimar,” said Uncle John. “We're on our way.”

Dimar nodded and took the lead through the bushes. As he and John walked downstream, they checked the bank all along the way for signs of a boat. It was slowgoing. The brush was thick, and there was a constant scurrying and chirping as rabbits, squirrels, and chipmunks evaded them. The birds flew high up into the trees to fuss at the men invading their domain.

John looked around overhead and laughed. “With all that noise, we certainly couldn't slip up on anyone, could we?”

“I will tell them to be quiet,” Dimar said. He stopped and gave several different kinds of whistles.

To John's amazement the birds hushed. He could no longer hear the animals moving about. “You are a gifted person, Dimar. They wouldn't have done that for me.”

Dimar shrugged his shoulders. “I only told them that we must be quiet.”

John looked sharply at the boy. “You told them that?”

“I spoke in their language. I have learned the different sounds they use,” Dimar explained, walking on.

“That is a remarkable achievement,” John said “Don't ever lose it.”

Dimar smiled.

After they had walked quite a distance, the Indian boy stopped to listen. John stopped also, watching Dimar. He, too, heard something. It sounded like a dog barking in the distance.

“It is coming from up ahead,” said Dimar.

As they walked on, the sound grew louder. It was definitely a dog barking. It sounded like a big dog.

Dimar stopped again and peered through the bushes, with John looking over his shoulder. A big black-and-white shaggy dog was sitting there, barking at the trunk of a large chestnut tree. The two looked around. There was no one in sight.

Seeing the people, the dog ran downstream through the bushes, still barking loudly, causing a great commotion among the animals and birds in the forest.

“He must have treed a squirrel,” John said.

“Crazy dog to run away from us and to keep on barking,” Dimar decided.

Little did they know that downstream, Amanda and Joe were lying unconscious on the bank, oblivious to the frantic search for them.

As Uncle Ned searched the creek bank upstream, he carefully combed the bushes for any clue to the missing young people. Nothing would escape Uncle Ned's keen observation. But there was no sign of anyone or any other clue.

“I promise Jim Shaw I watch over Papoose,” he fumed to himself. “Papoose lost. Must find.”

He checked his arrows in the sling to be sure he was prepared for any trouble that might arise, then stopped to look at the sun to judge the time of day.

Uncle Ned had not agreed with John that they should walk the banks, but he had not expressed his disagreement. The young people were not on the riverbanks. They had left by boat. The more he thought about
it, the more he was sure they should call for help from the Cherokees. If he, and John, and Dimar didn't find them soon, he would talk to John about getting the Cherokees' help.

Mandie and Joe still lay on the riverbank miles downstream. Though the wind had partially dried their clothes and hair, it had also chilled their bodies more. But they were so exhausted, they weren't aware of anything—least of all that someone else was pursuing them.

The man and woman who had set them adrift rode on horseback, the horses having found their way home.

As the couple carefully scanned the river for the two young people, the woman said, “I'm glad you changed your mind. It ain't right to do such a thing to younguns what ain't done nothin' to us. I jest hope they's all right.”

“Yeah, I s'pose we did act a little hasty,” the man agreed, riding alongside her.