When they rose to the surface, they found the skiff right side up, and dancing over the waves they had made, and the ducks and oars were floating in the water around them.
Their first thought was to discover what had become of the buck; he and Brave were engaged in a most desperate fight, in which the dog was evidently getting the better of it.

The hounds, probably not relishing their ducking, were making for the nearest shore, as if their lives depended upon the issue.
Frank swam up to the skiff, and took hold of it, to keep himself afloat; but Archie picked up an oar, and struck out toward the buck, exclaiming, "I guess I'd better take a hand in this fight." "No, no," said Frank, quickly, "you had better keep away from him; he has too much strength left.

He would beat you down under the water in less than a minute.

Brave can manage him alone." The next moment Frank happened to think of his gun.

Where was it?
He drew himself up and looked into the canoe.