"Where is the Bishop?"
The old man spread out his hands. "Gone. Four hours," he said.
VIII
ON THE LITTLE RIVER
The next day found Garth and Natalie afloat on Musquasepi, headed alone into the North. To be exact, only Natalie was afloat; she sat in the stern of a tiny boat, keeping her off shore with a paddle devised from the cover of a grub-box. Their outfit was piled amidships. Garth harnessed to the end of a towing-line, plodded through the mud and over the stones of the bank; climbing over fallen trees, and wading bodily into the river, when necessary to drag his tow around a reef.
Indecision had attacked Garth the night before—his responsibility was so great! But Natalie had said, pressing the soft curve out of her lips:
"Any means to get ahead! If we have to crawl on hands and knees!"
"Any safe means," Garth amended.