You will be our pilot, Poleon, and guide us to the spot." It required some pressure to persuade the Frenchman, but at last he consented; and as the afternoon drew to a close the little steamboat came squattering and wheezing up to the bar where Runnion had built his fire that morning, and a long, shrill blast summoned him from the point above.

When he did not appear the priest took Poleon and his round-faced, silent crew of two and went up the bank, but they found no sign of the crippled man, only a few rags, a trampled patch of brush at the forest's edge, and--that was all.

The springy moss showed no trail; the thicket gave no answer to their cries, although they spent an hour in a scattered search and sounded the steamboat's whistle again and again.
"He's try for walk it back to camp," said Doret.

"Mebbe he ain' hurt so much, after all." "You must be right," said Father Barnum.

"We will keep the steamer close to this shore, so that he can hail us when we overtake him." And so they resumed their toilsome trip; but mile after mile fell behind them, and still no voice came from the woods, no figure hailed them.