He was obliged to grope his way close to the trees; thus his boat bumped once or twice on hidden stumps.
It occurred to him to think what a very lonely place it would be to die in, and a premonition that he was going to die came across him.
Having found the blasted tree, he counted four fallen trees; they came at intervals in the outer row of standing ones; then there was a break in the forest, and he turned his boat into it and paused to listen.
The sound that met his ear--almost the strangest sound that could have been heard in that place--was that of human speech; it was still some distance away, but he heard a voice raised in angry excitement, supplicating, threatening, defying, and complaining.
Toyner began to row down the untried water-way which was opened to his boat.

The idea that any one had found Markham in such a place and at such an hour was too extraordinary to be credited.

Toyner looked eagerly into the mist.

He could see nothing but queer-shaped gulfs of light between trunks and branches.

Again his boat rubbed unexpectedly against a stump, and again the strange premonition of approaching death came over him.