In another ten minutes Miki raised his head and looked about him.

At that Neewa gave a tug on the rope, as if to advise him that it was time to get busy if they were expected to reach shore.

And Miki, drenched and forlorn, resembling more a starved bone than a thing of skin and flesh, actually made an effort to wag his tail when he saw Neewa.
He was still in a couple of inches of water, and with a hopeful eye on the log upon which Neewa was squatted he began to work his wobbly legs toward it.

It was a high log, and a dry log, and when Miki reached it his unlucky star was with him again.

Cumbrously he sprawled himself against it, and as he scrambled and scraped with his four awkward legs to get up alongside Neewa he gave to the log the slight push which it needed to set it free of the sunken driftage.