"Don't fear, Mr. Blain, the boys know how to take care of themselves. Dinner's calling 'em loudly enough by this time, I wager ye."
Dinner-time came and went, but no boys. As the afternoon wore on the mother's fears deepened until they became well-nigh unendurable. The minister, rowed by two of the neighbours, set out to find the truants and fetch them back.
"Don't lose faith, dear! They're up to some prank, the thoughtless scamps! I'll fetch them home none the worse, to laugh at your fears."
Following Tom's index-finger, the boys fastened their eyes upon a clump of river oaks that stood on the edge of the woods.
High up in a fork of one of the largest trees, they could see what looked at first like a huge bundle of clothes fluttering in the wind. After a short while the bundle seemed to take a somewhat definite shape.
"What in the name of goodness is it all? Seems like a lot of old clothes jammed in the tree forks. Are you sure that the squall, or squeak, or squeal, or whatever it was, came from that direction?"
"Yes, I think so," replied Tom. "Listen, there it's again!" A thin, treble cry rose faintly above the din of the flood waters.
"See a woman's foot!"
The speaker was the half-caste, whose eyesight, owing to his half-wild nature, was much keener than his fellows'.
"A woman's foot, Billy! What do you mean? You don't mean to say really, that——!"