In addition to this, the river had risen much faster than the creek, and the back water had entirely destroyed the creek's current, so that the boat must be pushed and paddled every inch of the way.
Nearly the entire day was consumed in getting to the river, five miles away from the starting place, and as the afternoon waned the boys grew tired, while Jake Elliott began to manifest his old disposition to criticise Sam's plans.
"May be we'll make five mile a day, an' may be we wont," he said.
"We'll git to Pensacola in six or eight weeks, I s'pose, if we don't starve by the way, an' _if_ this water runs that way." "Very well," said Sam, "the longer we are on the route the better it will please you, Jake." "Why ?" "Because you don't want to get there at all.

But we'll be there sooner than you think ?" "How long do you reckon it will take us, Sam ?" asked Billy.
"I don't know, because I don't know how long we'll be getting out of this creek." "Well, I mean after we get into the river." "About a day and a half," replied Sam, "possibly less." "You don't mean it ?" "Don't I?
What do I mean, then ?" "How far is it ?" "Less than a hundred miles." "Well, we can't go a hundred miles in a day and a half." "Can't we?
I think we can.

We'll run day and night, you know, and the current, at this stage of the water, can't be much less than five miles an hour.

Four miles an hour will take us ninety-six miles in twenty-four hours." "Hurrah for Captain Sam!" shouted Sid Russell, "Yonder's the river, an' she's a runnin' like a mill tail, too." Sid was standing up, and his great length lifted his head high enough to permit him to see the rapidly running stream long before any one else did.

The rest strained their eyes, or rather their necks trying to catch a glimpse of the stream, but the undergrowth of the swamp lay between them and the sight.