“We have taken some long journeys, but that would exceed them all,” remarked Bob, thoughtfully; and Sandy chuckled as he realized that, after all, his prudent brother had determined that, if ever that trip were undertaken, he would never allow Sandy to go alone.
“I feel rested already,” remarked Sandy, sitting up; “and besides, I’m anxious to get back to see how things look, with mother sitting there beside a fire in our new cabin. It will feel so good to have our own roof over our heads again. Oh! Bob, what is that floating past yonder? I do declare, it looks like a boat!”
The two sprang to their feet and stared.
“Yes, you are right, Sandy, it is a boat; and yet, for the life of me, I fail to see a living soul in it. There is no paddle flashing in the sunlight. It seems to be deserted. Come, let us leave our meat here, and run to the shore, so we can see better.”
Nothing loath, Sandy trotted along at the heels of his brother, and in the course of a minute or so they had gained the bank of the river. It happened that, when Sandy first discovered the drifting object, it had caught in an eddy that kept holding it back, so that although some little time had elapsed, the object of their scrutiny was still opposite to them.
To discover an empty dugout on the river was a strange event, indeed. The Armstrong boys could not remember ever having such a thing happen before in all their experience; and it was no wonder then that they stared and rubbed their eyes as if they could hardly believe what they saw.
“Can it be a sly trick on the part of Indians to keep our attention fastened on that boat while they slip up behind us?” Sandy asked, turning his head to look around him at the grim forest.
“But they would not know we were coming along here,” interposed Bob; “and so, you see, how could they think to lay a plan like that? No, we need feel no fears on that score. And then again, you know, Sandy, our own people are only a short two miles or so above here. If the river were straight I believe we could see them even now.”
“But, Bob, where could that boat have come from? I’ve a good notion to strip and swim out after it. We could make good use of another dugout like ours. And it is just the same kind of a boat, too, don’t you think?”
“I was thinking something even more than that, Sandy,” returned Bob.