Dunwody therefore determined to ride across the river bed at its shortest distance, in the attempt to intercept the steamer, relying upon chance to secure small boats near at hand should they be necessary.

His men by this time were glad enough to dismount and take some sort of refreshment before this last stage of their journey.
It was dark when again they mounted, and the old river road, full of wash-outs, stumps and roots, made going slow after the moon had sunk.

They had, however, no great distance to ride.

At a point ten miles up the river they came upon a small huddle of fishermen's huts.

At one of these Dunwody knocked, and the frightened tenant, at first almost speechless at the sight of so many armed men, stammeringly informed him that the steamer had passed late that evening and was, in his belief, tied up at a little towhead island not more than half a mile up-stream.
"What boats have you got here ?" demanded Dunwody.
"No boat at all, Monsieur," rejoined the habitant.
"Maybe so four, five feesh boat, that's hall." "Bring them out!" was the terse order.
They dismounted and, leaving their horses tied in the wood at the roadside, they went to the water's edge and presently embarked, a half dozen men in each of as many long river skiffs, of the type used by the fishermen in carrying out their nets.