Still following the trail, he emerged upon the bank of the Elk River, white like the woods with its ghostly night sweat.
The dull beat of the child's heart quickened as he gazed out on the swift current that was hurrying on with its dreadful secret.

Then the full comprehension of his loss seemed to overwhelm him and he was utterly desolate.

Sobs shook him, and he dropped on his knees, holding fast to the stock of his rifle.
"Uncle Bob--Uncle Bob, come back! Can't you come back!" he wailed miserably.

Presently he staggered to his feet.

Convulsive sobs still wrenched his little body.