The native doesn't like the look of a trap, and it maybe that they passed on with the intention of returning at night.
Or they may have gone for the other boats." Mr.Hume stood up to glance shorewards.
"Would it not be better to move on ?" said Venning.
"If we could be sure that we should not be seen from the land, that would be the move." He stroked his beard.

"I guess we'll move," he said, "just about dusk, for I'm pretty sure in my mind that they did take particular notice of this channel, and my policy is always to listen to your instincts." "Instincts," muttered Compton; "call them nerves." Mr.Hume laughed.

"About the time you were born, Dick, I was playing a lone hand in Lo-Ben's country as trader and hunter, when a loss of nerve would have meant loss of life.

See! So just leave this to me, and shove her along." Compton grinned back at the hunter, and tugged at his oar, for the levers clanked too loud for this work.

They crept along to another berth a little way off, and tied up in the shadow of the bank; and they had scarcely settled themselves when they heard again the beat of engines.