"Do you see the steamer?"
"She is not in sight yet."
The mouth of Crooked River was half a mile above Paradise Island. Its head waters were in the Indian country, but the most of its course was through a more level region than that through which the two branches of the Fish flowed, though the mouths of the two were not more than a couple of miles apart. Crooked River was, therefore, practicable for boats, while there were frequent rapids in Fish Creek and its tributaries.
"There's the steamer," said I, after we had gone a short distance farther.
"And where are the dugouts?"
"They have gone into Crooked River."
"Can the people in the steamer see them?" asked the anxious father.
"No," I replied, sadly.
Mr. Gracewood continued to pull with all his might, and in silence, till we came within hail of the steamer.
"Hold on!" I shouted, making violent gestures with my arms.