It slipped from his grasp as he struck the water, and was now lying at the bottom of the bayou.

He felt the loss as keenly as Don Gordon would have felt the loss of his fine breech-loader.
David thought he had never before been so nearly frozen as he was when he struck the opposite bank of the bayou; but a few minutes' vigorous exercise put his blood in circulation again, and then he began to feel more comfortable.

He followed the bayou until he reached the lake, and then he plunged into the water again, and swam across to the other shore.

It was cold work, but he had no boat, and so there was nothing else he could do.

He was a very forlorn-looking object indeed, when he reached the cabin.