Defeated in our well-planned attempt, we felt as unwilling to abandon our campaign, as we were unable to continue it.
Nearly an hour slipped by.

We could not resolve to leave the place.
Our eyes still sought to pierce the night.

Sometimes a glimmer, due to the sparkle of the waters, trembled on the surface of the lake.
Then it vanished, and with it the foolish hope that it had roused.
Sometimes again, we thought we saw a shadow outlined against the dark, the silhouette of an approaching boat.

Yet again some eddies would swirl up at our feet, as if the Creek had been stirred within its depths.

These vain imaginings were dissipated one after the other.