The gang plank, confined by the rope, swung in the current alongside the snag, but it seemed useless to undertake to restore it to its position.  The girl cowered against the side of the deck opening, undecided.  “Wait,” I called out to her; and slipping down into the water again, I waded as close as I could to the door, the water then catching me close to the shoulders.

“Jump!” I said to her, holding out my arms.

“I can’t—­I’m afraid,” she said, in a voice hardly above a whisper.

“Do as I tell you!” I roared, in no gentle tones, I fear.  “Jump at once!” She stooped, and sprang, and as I caught her weight with my arms under hers, she was for the moment almost immersed; but I staggered backwards and managed to hold my footing till Auberry’s arms reached us from the snag, up which we clambered, the girl dripping wet and catching her breath in terror.

“That’s right,” said Mandy McGovern, calmly, “now here we be, all of us.  Now, you men, git hold of this here rope an’ haul up them boards, an’ make a seat for us.”

Auberry and I found it difficult to execute this order, for the current of old Missouri, thrusting against so large an object, was incredibly strong; but at last, little by little edging the heavy staging up over the limb of the snag, we got its end upon another fork and so made a ticklish support, half in and half out of the water.

“That’s better,” said Mandy, climbing upon it.  “Now come here, you pore child.  You’re powerful cold.”  She gathered the girl between her knees as she sat.  “Here, you man, give me your coat,” she said to me; and I complied, wishing it were not so wet.

None on the boat seemed to have any notion of what was going on upon our side of the vessel.  We heard many shouts and orders, much trampling of feet, but for the most part on the opposite part of the boat.  Then at once we heard the engines reverse, and were nearly swept from our insecure hold upon the snag by the surges kicked up under the wheel.  The current caught the long underbody of the boat as she swung.  We heard something rip and splinter and grate; and then the boat, backing free from the snag, gradually slipped down from the bar and swept into the current under steam again.

Not so lucky ourselves, for this wrenching free of the boat had torn loose the long imbedded roots of the giant snag, and the plowing current getting under the vast flat back of matted roots, now slowly forced it, grinding and shuddering, down from the toe of the bar.  With a sullen roll it settled down into new lines as it reached the deeper water.  Then the hiss of the water among the branches ceased.  Rolling and swaying, we were going with the current, fully afloat on the yellow flood of the Missouri!

I held my breath for a moment, fearing lest the snag might roll over entirely; but no concern seemed to reach the mind of our friend Mrs. McGovern.  “It’s all right,” said she, calmly.  “No use gittin’ skeered till the time comes.  Boat’s left us, so I reckon we’d better be gittin’ somewhere for ourselves.  You, Andrew Jackson, dem yer fool soul, if you don’t quit snivelin’ I’ll throw you off into the worter.”