So hugging the left bank they passed the junction of the rivers, and a little further on crossed to the other side to seek shelter from a rising wind, under the high bank. And less than an hour later the canoe, carrying Gerald Ainley and his Indian, swept out of the tributary stream into the broader current, and they drove downstream, unconscious that every stroke of the paddle was taking them further from the girl whom they sought.
CHAPTER VII
STRANDED
It was high noon when Hubert Stane directed the nose of the canoe towards a landing-place in the lee of a sand-bar, on the upperside of which was a pile of dry driftwood suitable for firing.
"We will take an hour's rest, Miss Yardely; and possibly whilst we are waiting your friends may show up."
He lit a fire, prepared a wilderness meal of bacon and beans (the latter already half-cooked) and biscuit and coffee, and as they consumed it, he watched the river, a long stretch of which was visible.
"I thought we should have encountered your friends before now, Miss Yardely," he remarked thoughtfully.
The girl smiled. "Are you anxious to get rid of me?" she asked. "Believe me, I am enjoying myself amazingly, and if it were not for the anxiety my uncle and the others will be feeling, I should not trouble at all. This——" she waved a hand towards the canoe and the river—"is so different from my uncle's specially conducted tour."