The darkness of night had, however, by this time, fallen upon us, and being strangers, our party managed to become separated. Horner and myself kept together, but when we reached the stream, it was at a different portion of it from that where the skiff lay that had borne us over. We knew not which side to turn.
While standing there, we heard the sound of oars; or, more properly, of a means of propulsion bearing an equal consanguinity to oars and paddles. They were peculiar to the Plains at that time. What was to be done? If we had shouted to our friends, we should have disclosed our whereabouts to our enemies.
Horner, however, was a man of educational resource, and volunteered to swim across and return with the skiff for me, as I was unable to accompany him.
It may be imagined I felt some repugnance at being left to the mercy of Marysville, if it should chance to find me. Searching around, I stumbled over something, which, on examination, I discovered was an old "dug-out," or species of impromptu ark. To this I at once determined upon committing myself and my fortunes, with a broad piece of board which I found at some little distance. This might serve as a paddle. Accordingly, as Horner plunged into the river, I availed myself of it. But the cursed thing gave me a lesson I have never since forgotten, when the chance was given me to remember it. It is contained in the old proverbial saying, "look before you leap." The dug-out had a hole in it. Scarcely had it got a dozen yards from the shore, than it was fast filling. In a few yards more, it was under water; and for the sake of remaining above its unpleasantly chilly surface, I, very considerately, let it go to—the bottom.
This was the worst fix I had yet found myself in.
But there is no lane without a turning, although it must be confessed some of these turnings are occasionally sharp and rough. Thinking my last moment was come, and that some time next morning my unconscious body might arrive on shore some miles lower down the river, to afford a meal to the stray dogs or crows of this part of the country, I struck out recklessly in a battle for as much more of life as I could possibly keep.
A few moments passed. Great Heaven! I did not sink. I was actually swimming.
"Where are you, Dave?" I shouted out, joyously.
"Here, old boy!" was the cheery answer.