“That tree knocked them both overboard,” said Charlie Hoyt, with conviction, and all were inclined to agree with him.
Captain Royce would not go on, however, till careful search had been made, and as soon as day dawned he and Wistar, with Charlie Hoyt and Lincoln, took the skiff and pulled back up-stream to the bluff whence they had been so roughly cast adrift.
No trace of the missing boy was here discovered, however; they landed, and climbing up the bank, saw where the entire side of it had collapsed, and a dozen or more large cotton-wood trees had slid down. It was one of the latter that had fallen aboard the ark.
The search alongshore, both above and below, was continued for an hour or more, and they shouted repeatedly, but obtained no response. The conclusion forced on the minds of all was that the boy had been knocked overboard when the roof broke down, and had been swept away by the rapid current and drowned.
On returning to the ark, Captain Royce found that three or four hours’ work would have to be done before going on. Two horses were so badly crushed that it became necessary to kill them. A third was slightly injured, and was put in slings. To some extent, too, the roof was patched up; but when all was done, the old craft bore visible evidence of rough usage.
It was not till past noon that they got off from the willow bank and resumed the voyage—with heavy hearts.
By four o’clock that afternoon another high bluff came into view down the river—the third of that picturesque series known to boatmen as the Chickasaw Bluffs.
And this was ever afterward memorable to our arksmen. As they drifted down near it shouts were heard from the woods crowning the river-front. The barking of a dog also came to their ears. Two men could be seen high up the bluff, and one of them was swinging his arms as if making signals.
“I believe that’s Lewis!” Moses shouted, in great excitement. “Lewis and Tige!”
“But that other looks like an Indian!” exclaimed Wistar.