"All right, Joe."
"Pull then, boys, and stick to it like grim death to a diseased nigger."
The boat having got good way on, Joe headed her out a little, when she immediately encountered the current.
"Lay to it, my lads, lay to it!"
The boys "lay to" with such vigour that the rapid current was counterbalanced, and she hung in the stream, neither making headway nor drifting.
"Easy a little, my hearties! We must let her drift down gradually. Mustn't let her get out of hand, though."
In swinging the boat into the channel Joe kept her nose up-stream, and as near the slack water as possible. The boys easing a trifle at Joe's command, the current became the stronger of the two forces, and the little craft drifted slowly. Blain eagerly scanned the clump for an opening. This cluster, it may be remarked, was about two hundred yards long and fifty or so wide. In some parts the timber was thickly scattered, in others the trees were bunched together.
The boat is now about fifty yards above the tree containing the supposed woman.
"That's right, chaps, keep up as you're doin'! We must drift very slowly lest we miss the chance of popping in. It's too thick to venture in here. It's thinnin' out, though," exclaimed Joe, as the boat neared the point abreast the tree.
"Here's an opening, I do believe. Be ready, Billy! Pull, lads! pull, pull! Look out all!"