“Gettin’ ready, Mas’r Harry; so as to have something dry to put on when we come back.”
“But I’m not going to try without boat or raft, Tom,” I said. “We must give it up for to-day.”
Tom said no word but hurriedly replaced his extreme garments, and together we slowly made our way back to reach the light in time to see that the sun was very low down in the horizon, when completely wearied out we sat down to finish our provision, a very easy task, for I had only intended my store for one. But I must give Tom the credit of saying that he would not eat without much pressing, declaring that his pipe would satisfy him.
An hour after we were making our way back to the hacienda with, fortunately for us, a bright moon overhead, but it was nearly midnight before we reached the court-yard.
Chapter Twenty Two.
The Return to Shadow-Land.
Tom was inexhaustible in his schemes, and at the end of three days he had contrived the very thing we required, in a light little raft composed of a few bamboo wands confining together a couple of inflated calf or small heifer skins, which floated lightly on the river like a pair of huge bladders.
“There, Mas’r Harry, what do you say to them, eh? Let all the wind out and double ’em up, cut fresh sticks over there by the cave, blow the bags out again, and there you are fitted up in style.”