"Woof! Dose skeeter bug is hongry," he cried. "Let's we pass on de river queeck."
She was only too eager to be away from the spot, and an instant later they were afloat in the Peterborough.
"Dis nice batteau," Poleon remarked, critically. "I mak' it go fas'," and began to row swiftly, seeking the breeze of the open river in which to shake off the horde of stinging pests that had risen with the sun. "I come 'way queeck wit'out t'inkin' 'bout gun or skeeter net or not'in'. Runnion she's len' me dis coat, so mebbe I don' look so worse lak' I do jus' now, eh?"
"How did you leave him? Is he badly injured?"
"No, I bus' it up on de face an' de rib, but she's feelin' good now. Yes. I'm leave 'im nice place for stop an' wait on de steamboat--plaintee spruce bough for set on."
She began to shudder again, and, sensitive to her every motion, he asked, solicitously, if she were sick, but she shook her head.
"I--I--was thinking what--supposing you hadn't come? Oh, Poleon! you don't know what you saved me from." She leaned forward and laid a tiny, grateful hand on the huge brown paw that rested on his oar. "I wonder if I can ever forget?"
She noted that they were running with the current, and inquired:
"Wal, I can't pull dis boat 'gainst dat current, so I guess we pass on till I fin' my shirt, den bimebye we pick it up some steamboat an' go home."
Five miles below his quick eye detected his half-submerged "bark" lodged beneath some overhanging firs which, from the water's action, had fallen forward into the stream, and by rare good-fortune it was still upright, although awash. He towed it to the next sand-bar, where he wrung out and donned his shirt, then tipped the water from the smaller craft, and, making it fast astern of the Peterborough, set out again. Towards noon they came in sight of a little stern-wheeled craft that puffed and pattered manfully against the sweeping current, hiding behind the points and bars and following the slackest water.
"It's the Mission, boat!" cried Necia. "It's the Mission boat! Father Barnum will be aboard."
She waved her arms madly and mingled her voice with Poleon's until a black-robed figure appeared beside the pilot-house.
"Father Barnum!" she screamed, and, recognizing her, he signalled back.