Prisoners of Chance

Seated upon the grass, lingering over the rude repast, we discussed our situation, seeking to outline vaguely our future plans. De Noyan was for keeping close against the western bank as we progressed northward. He had hunted amid the marshes, and remembered sufficiently the formation of the shore-line to be aware that for several leagues it remained thickly skirted by small islands, while numerous bayous offered secure hiding-places. In this choice I acquiesced, urging also that the downward flow of the current would sweep with greater force along the opposite shore; besides which the search-boat, just passing us on the way up-stream, would be more likely to return along the eastern bank.

"There is no reason," I continued, "why we should delay departure longer. We can keep the boat beneath the shadows of the bank, and even if the Dons stop to make camp, they would hardly do so without building a fire, which would afford ample warning to sheer out into the stream. If they return along this shore--as is unlikely--we should hear the heavy strokes of their oars before they caught the sound of our lighter ones. I am for embarking at once."

This agreed upon, within a half-hour we were pushing slow passage through the thick cane, soon finding ourselves once again afloat upon the broad water, the prow of our boat turned up-stream, while here and there a dim star winked down upon us between scurrying clouds.