"They'll be sleeping sound after the booze," he thought grimly. "They think they've fixed me for a while. They won't be looking for a visit to-night."
When he had his patches affixed, he built a small fire on the stones, and held the boat over it to dry the gum.
In less than two hours she was fit to float again. He carried his fire up on the bank then, and making a blaze, hastily collected his scattered belongings. This refreshed his rage. In his impatience he flung everything into his boat higgledy-piggledy, and pushed off. He did not paddle, for fear of being carried past, but allowed the current to take him, while he searched both shores with straining eyes. No shadow was allowed to pass unexplained.
He had not gone much above a mile when he saw what he so ardently desired: their dugout drawn up on the stones. A great satisfaction diffused itself throughout his breast. Softly paddling ashore, he beached his own boat alongside, and bent his head to listen. A faint snoring from the bank overhead reassured him. He smiled scornfully. In their drunken carelessness they had actually left most of their baggage in the dugout. Ralph had no desire to starve them to death, or to deprive them of the means of ultimate escape. With suitable precautions of silence he unloaded everything on the stones. Then untying the rope by which the dugout was fastened to a tree, he heaved her adrift on the current. He didn't care much whether they heard that or not. But no alarm was raised.
Embarking in his own boat, Ralph towed the larger craft into midstream. Picturing the scene that awaited their awakening next morning, he chuckled grimly, and found his breast eased of its weight of rage. He felt not the slightest regret for what he had done; indeed he was blaming himself for the foolish compunctions that had prevented him from doing it earlier. His enemies were in no pressing danger; they possessed a store of food, also guns and ammunition. They would eventually build a raft. In the meantime he would get a start that would put him out of their reach for good. He was free of them. A great serenity descended on his spirit.
Before he cast off the dugout it occurred to him that it was better fitted to descend the rapids ahead than his own clumsy coracle. He debated the matter. An odd quirk of conscience finally prevented him from making the change. "If I use the thing," he thought, "it's the same as stealing it." On this fine distinction depended the whole subsequent course of his story. He cast the dugout adrift. There was no wind to blow it ashore and it was good for a long journey.
During the rest of the night Ralph paddled and floated with the current without seeking any further rest. Dawn found him among the islands that marked the approach of the end of the Rice River. This was where he had first been blindfolded on the previous journey, and he awaited the subsequent sights of the river with a stimulated curiosity.
At sun-up, rounding a bend, he beheld the wide expanse of the meeting of the waters, the Grand Forks of the Spirit River. There could be no mistaking the place. The two rivers occupied the same valley; one came down from the north, one from the south; meeting head on they swung away to the eastward. The green current and the brownish struggled ceaselessly for possession of the channel. At present the Stanley was in flood, backing up the waters of the Rice River for several miles. The division between sweeping brown water and motionless green water was as sharply defined as between water and land. Poking the nose of his boat into the current, she swung around and almost rolled awash under the impact. Ralph instantly remembered the sensation which had so puzzled him while he lay blindfolded.
Soon after he began to move down on the majestic flood of the augmented river, the murmur of the great rapids crept on his ears, and his heart began to beat. This would be the first real test of his paddle. The murmur increased to a rumble, then to a roar. Finally he could make out the white-caps leaping below, like the naked arms of a multitude ceaselessly tossed to the sky in wild excitement. He appreciated the vast difference between a pretty stream brawling among the stones, and a mighty watercourse plunging over a barrier of rock.
He landed a little way above the rapids and fortified himself with an excellent breakfast. Afterward he made his way alongshore to the beginning of the turmoil to try to spy out the best place to enter it. A close view of its mightiness made him feel very small. The immeasurable flood of water swept smoothly over the hidden ledge with an oily streaked surface, moving faster and faster until it suddenly boiled up madly at the bottom. From shore to shore, nearly half a mile, the wild, white welter prevailed. Ralph received a stunning impression of the tearing, resistless might of the down-rushing water. Its roar was deafening. At the thought of tempting it with his flimsy coracle, his heart shrunk away to nothing in his breast. But it had to be done.