On his way back he stopped at the hut, and made a thorough but vain
search for food. There was not so much as would have fed a mouse, and
the only thing of value that the boy discovered was a rusty fish-hook
stuck into one of the wall logs. Before leaving the hut he replenished
the fire in the chimney-place, thinking that perhaps he might return
there to sleep. Then he went on to the camp.
Here Winn's search for food was as unsuccessful as it had been at the
hut. He found a number of cooking utensils, battered and smoked, and
discovered an old axe still sticking in the log on which it had been
last used. He also found some bits of rope and cord. He knotted
together enough of the latter to make a rude line, attached his
fish-hook to it, cut a pole, dug some bait, and began to fish just
above the "river-traders'" boom. For some time he sat there,
patiently, but got no bites. The poor boy began to grow desperate with
hunger.
"I declare! I've a great mind to swim for the main-land," he said,
aloud. "No I won't, though. I can do better than that. Besides, the
water is cold enough to give me a cramp. I can make a raft of these
logs. Why didn't I think of it before?"
Thrusting the butt end of his pole into the soft earth of the bank, and
weighting it with a good, sized stone, the boy went to the boom to
examine its contents.
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