"Black in yonder, ain't it?" he added, nodding
ahead.
The shores drew rapidly together; they were leaving the lakelike
expanse behind. In the silence, above the rustling of the trees,
Carrington heard the first fret of 'the river against its bank.
Slosson yawned prodigiously.
"I reckon you ain't needing me?" he said.
"Better go up in the bow and get some sleep," advised Carrington,
and Slosson, nothing loath, clambered down from the roof of the
cabin and stumbled forward.
The ceaseless murmur of the rushing waters grew in the stillness
as the keel boat drew nearer the hurrying yellow flood, and the
beat of the Kentuckian's pulse quickened. Would he find the raft
there? He glanced back over the way they had come. The dark
ranks of the forest walled off the clearing, but across the water
a dim point of light was visible. He fixed its position as
somewhere near the head of the bayou. Apparently it was a
lantern, but as he looked a ruddy glow crept up against the
sky-line.
From the bow Bunker had been observing this singular phenomenon.
Suddenly he bent and roused Slosson, who had fallen asleep. The
tavern-keeper sprang to his feet and Bunker pointed without
speaking.
"Mebby you can tell me what that light back yonder means?" cried
Slosson, addressing himself to Carrington; as he spoke he
snatched up his rifle.
"That's what I'm trying to make out," answered Carrington.
"Hell!" cried Slosson, and tossed his gun to his shoulder.
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