"Buck!" shouted the voice again; and I was satisfied it was not that of either of my oppressors. I could not see through the dense thicket of the swamp; but another repetition of the call assured me it came from Sim Gwynn, my fellow-navigator in the swamp.
"Come here, Buck—will you?" said he, when I had answered his summons.
"I'm coming, Sim!" I shouted.
I plied the pole vigorously, and soon propelled the raft to the place where he stood.
"I saw you come down here, Buck; and I waited for you a while," said he, stepping upon the raft at my invitation.
"Why didn't you sing out before, then?"
"I thought you'd be coming back," he replied, with more embarrassment in his manner than the circumstances seemed to warrant.
"Where do you want to go, Sim?" I asked, as I pushed off again.
"Anywhere; it don't make any difference to me now where I go," he answered, shaking his head.
"Why, what is the matter? Are you not at work now?"