Jim stood up, and seizing his tools, made down the creek. He shouted to Chips, and the latter looked at him imploringly. Jim waded through the water and reached the craft.
“You should have kept her out more in the center, my friend,” he said.
“Current go swift there—no make the landing.”
“Hm! perhaps you’re right. Here, take these aboard—I’ll come back with you.” 294
He put the shovel and pick over the side of the boat and catching hold of the stern, pushed hard. Chips gave a yell of joy as the punt slithered and then jolted into deep water. Jim clambered aboard and took the pole. Half an hour later they beached her at the landing-place.
Devinne and the other half-breed came running down the slope. The former looked at Jim in surprise.
“Where did you go to? We waited breakfast for twenty minutes, and then discovered you were not in.”
“Sorry,” mumbled Jim. “I was mad for a walk. I met Chips up the river, stuck on a sandbank, so I came along. He ain’t a good sailor.” Chips grinned, and he and his comrade commenced to pack the cargo up the hill. Jim walked back with Devinne; the latter regarded him in curious fashion. Entering the house, he met Angela, but Natalie was pleasantly absent. Angela surveyed his wet figure with a smile.
“Been swimming?” she queried.
“No. I’ve bin hurrying along the stores. I met Chips.”