Martin immediately took possession of the spear.
“I may still have a chance of killing a fish, if we come to any deep little bay or bend of the river, where some are likely to be at rest,” he observed.
It was getting late, and unless we could kill something soon we should have to go supperless to bed.
“Hillo! I see something,” cried Robin, and rushing forward he held up one of the despised swans.
The sight at all events gave pleasure to Bouncer, who began barking and leaping round it.
“You shall have some directly, old fellow,” cried Robin.
As we saw a suitable spot for encamping a little distance from the bank, we agreed to stop for the night. The wind blowing somewhat colder than usual, a wigwam, or at all events a lean-to, was considered advisable. Martin and I set to work to collect the necessary materials, while Alick and Robin lighted the fire and spitted the swan for cooking.