CHAPTER XXXVI. A LUCKY ENCOUNTER.
Unsatisfied hunger is always a serious discomfort. What it was to a young, healthy boy like Rupert, who had been working hard for several hours, may be imagined.
Even if there had been a prospect of his dining in two or three hours, it would have been inconvenient, but he could have endured it. As it was, he did not know when he could satisfy his appetite, if at all.
He discovered in his pockets some silver change which Ben hadn't taken, but that could do him no good in the Colorado wilderness.
Rupert was in general sanguine and light-hearted. But it must be owned that he felt terribly depressed about this time. He had his gun with him, but even if he should succeed in shooting anything, how could he cook it? He had not even a match with which to light a fire.
Was he destined to starve in this out of the way region? he asked himself. A hundred miles off he had a rich friend. In New York he owned two valuable lots and had money in the bank besides, but neither of these could do him any good now.
The French speak of an uncomfortable quarter of an hour. Rupert had two hours at least that could be described in this way. All this while, faint as he was and tired as his exertions on an empty stomach had made him, he still paddled on. At last, to his great joy, there came light in the darkness. As the raft turned a corner in the windings of the river he saw on the bank, curiously regarding him, a tall, thin, dark-complexioned girl, in a calico dress too short for her.
A new hope was born in Rupert's heart? and he stopped paddling.