In the morning, well satisfied with his night's work, he laid up for the day in the safest place he could find.
On the second day of his voyage down the river, the old problem of rations again presented itself for consideration, for the ham and chicken he had procured at Leed's Manor were all gone.

There were plenty of houses on the banks of the river, but Tom had hoped to complete his cruise without the necessity of again exposing himself to the peril of being captured while foraging for the commissary department.

But the question was as imperative as it had been several times before, and twelve hours fasting gave him only a faint hint of what his necessities might compel him to endure in twenty-four or forty-eight hours.

He did not consider it wise to postpone the settlement of the problem till he was actually suffering for the want of food.
On the third night of his voyage, therefore, he hauled up the bateau at a convenient place, and started off upon a foraging expedition, intending to visit some farmer's kitchen, and help himself, as he had done on a former occasion.

Of course, Tom had no idea where he was; but he hoped and believed that he should soon reach Harper's Ferry.
After making his way through the woods for half a mile, he came to a public road, which he followed till it brought him to a house.