THE LOSS OF RENE There was the echo of an oath, a harsh, cruel laugh, the crash of planking, a strange, half-human cry of fright from the negro--that was all.

The sudden violence of the blow must have hurled me high into the air, for I struck the water clear of both boats, and so far out in the stream, that when I came again struggling to the surface, I was in the full sweep of the current, against which I had to struggle desperately.
In the brief second that intervened between Sam's shout of warning, and the crash of the two boats, I had seen almost nothing--only that black, menacing hulk, looming up between us and the shore, more like a shadow than a reality.

Yet now, fighting to keep my head above water, and not to be swept away, I was able to realize instantly what had occurred.

I had been mistaken; Kirby had not fled down the river; instead he had craftily waited this chance to attack us at a disadvantage.

Convinced that we would decide to make use of the rowboat, which he had left uninjured for that very purpose, and that we would venture forth just so soon as the night became dark enough, he had hidden the stolen craft in some covert along shore, to await our coming.