I wonder
if I haven't done a foolish thing in leaving the raft? If I have, the
best thing to do now is to get back as quickly as possible."
By this time the boy had worked himself into a fever of apprehension,
and, remembering what he had been told concerning the narrowness of the
island, he determined to make a short-cut across it. This was exactly
what the far-sighted Mr. Gilder had anticipated, and Winn fell an easy
victim to his artfully planned trap. For nearly an hour the boy,
versed in wood-craft as he was, wandered and struggled through the
dense undergrowth of that island forest. Suddenly, as he burst his way
through a thicket, he was confronted by the log-hut so lately occupied
by the "river-traders." Winn shouted as he approached it; but, of
course, received no reply. It had the lonely look of a place long
deserted, and the boy paused for but a single glance into its
uninviting interior. Then, getting his bearings anew by the sun that
was beginning to struggle through the clouds, he pushed his way
resolutely towards the western side of the island, which, somewhat to
his surprise, he reached a few minutes later.
He emerged from the timber at the abandoned camp of the traders; but
without stopping to examine it, he ran to the water's edge, and gazed
anxiously both up and down stream.
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