"Moo!"
At the same moment a cow stuck her head out of a small window, and looked piteously at the rescuers.
"Too bad! We can't do anything for you, old cow!" cried Blake. "I guess you're done for, unless your barn floats to shore. I wish we had room for you," he went on, whimsically, "for we could use fresh milk very nicely." They had been obliged to put up with the condensed variety thus far.
The barn swept on down stream, turning around and around, as the boat went past it, the cow's head appearing at each turn, thrust through the window.
With a small moving picture camera, Blake got a few views of this odd scene, to add to the others already taken.
They decided to tie up for the night just above a small town, that was far enough from the banks of the Mississippi to have escaped the flood, thus far. But the inhabitants were in constant fear, and all available men were at work strengthening the levee.
Our friends managed to purchase a few supplies, and they got some fresh milk, which luxury Charlie had missed very much, for he was accustomed to drinking it.
