“True enough,” replied Norman, “we had forgotten that. But the beasts gone to the bottom—how can we get at him?”
“Why, fish him up, to be sure,” said François. “Let’s splice one of these willow-poles to my ramrod, and I’ll screw it into him, and draw him to the surface in a jiffy. Come!”
“We must get the canoe round, then,” said Norman. “The bank’s too steep for us to reach him without it.”
“Of course,” assented François, at the same time going towards the willows; “get you the canoe into the water, while I cut the sapling.”
“Stay!” cried Basil, “I’ll show you a shorter method. Marengo!”
As Basil said this, he rose to his feet, and walked down to the bluff where they had shot the wolverene. All of them followed him as well as Marengo, who bounded triumphantly from side to side, knowing he was wanted for some important enterprise.
“Do you expect the dog to fetch him out?” inquired Norman.
“No,” replied Basil; “only to help.”
“How?”
“Wait a moment—you shall see.”