"I can't say much for the safety or appearance of the craft at present," he said, scrambling out," but we must tinker her up to serve our turn. We will cruise down the stream tomorrow. We are not far from the plains. See how sluggishly the river runs." The canoe (it scarcely deserved the name,) was drawn out, and after a minute examination, Dodge considered she might be made available by plastering up her two ends with mud and filling several rather serious-looking fractures with the same humble material. When all the repairs possible had been done, and she really kept free of water, Slinger proposed three cheers for their success.
"Steady," said Dodge, clapping his hand before Slinger's mouth, "there's time enough for that when we are out of hearing of the natives; at present I am not quite sure that we are. Make a better use of your time, and sleep two hours in one. My word! we shall not reach home for a few days if all turns out right, and we must be moving sufficiently early tomorrow to get some two miles down the river ere the sun rises."
Long before daybreak Dodge roused his friends, who were most unwilling to respond to the call. So he set to work and boiled some small portions of tea and sugar, which he succeeded in bringing to light from the inmost recesses of the leg of the pair of trousers in which it will be remembered he ingeniously contrived to stow away all his stores. "This kind of beverage requires to be taken hot," Dodge said, as he, accidentally of course, spilt a little upon Slinger's blanket under which he yet remained coiled; "by drinking it then you will not know whether it is double distilled or not. Come, be alive!" he went on to say, shaking his friends and almost lifting them upon their legs; "be alive, my boat is on the shore, and my bark is —where?" he said, casting his eyes in the direction in which he had left the canoe over-night; his bark was not there.
