The broken manilla rope, dragging at the stern, told him why it was adrift.
Without hesitation he plunged into the water, and in a few strokes reached the straying craft.
Scrambling into it, he seized an oar found lying in its bottom, and paddled back to the place whence he had started. Placing his gun ready beside him, he again paddled off, and rowed into the centre of the lake, steering his course, as nearly as he could remember, in the direction which, in the morning, he had observed the canoe to take.
The spot, as he had marked it, was near a huge cypress tree.
It proved to be at a greater distance than he thought, and the sun had well sunk in the western sky before he arrived at it.
Once there he came to a stop. Those he sought had evidently either gone further out into the open water of the lagoon or had made for one or other of the numerous narrow canals which debouched into it.
Selecting that which appeared of the greatest width, he plied his oar and advanced towards it.