“Why, yes, it is possible; the flood came from the big river, up ours, and the boat must be somewhere in the forest after all.”
Pomp shook his head.
“Done know what um mean,” he said.
“I mean that perhaps our boat was washed up somewhere.”
“Iss, Pomp wash um up two-tree-day ’fore took away wif de mop.”
“I mean the flood carried the boat up into the forest among the trees, like it did the hut.”
“Mass’ George fink so?”
“Yes.”
“Come ’long find um.”
Willingly enough I started with the boy, but stopped directly, for I remembered that Hannibal had come running up to announce the loss of the boat, and that he might have some recollection of the direction in which it was carried.