In this trail Mr.
Gilder walked to the southern end of the island, and up its other side until he reached a comfortable camp that bore signs of long occupancy.
It stood high on a cut bank, and just below it a rude boom held a miscellaneous assortment of logs, lumber, and odd wreckage, all of it evidently collected from the stray drift of the great river.
From the edge of the bank, a short distance from this camp, the man commanded a good view of the stranded raft, and for several minutes he stood gazing at it.

"There's the very thing to a T, that we want," he said to himself.

"Not too big for us to handle, and yet large enough to make it seem an object for us to take it down the river.

I can't see what they want of three shanties, though; one ought to be enough for all the crew she needs.

Our first move would be to tear down two of them, and lengthen the other; that alone would be a sufficient disguise.