nd two pairs of wading-boots, as well as with a luncheon
basket, well filled by Mrs. Jabe, and started on our expedition. I felt
in remarkably good spirits.

I had formed no acceptable hypothesis in regard to what I had seen the
day before, but I was going to do something better than that; I was
going to find out if what had occurred could possibly be real and
actual. If I should be convinced that this was impossible, then I
intended to accept the whole affair as a dream which had taken place
during an unconscious nap.

When we reached the woodland stream, Walkirk gazed about him with
satisfaction. "This looks like sport," he said. "I see no reason why
there should not be good fishing in this creek. I did not suppose we
should find such pleasant woods and so fine a stream in Captain Jabe's
neighborhood."

"You must know," said I, "that I have a talent for exploration and
discovery. Had it not been for this stream, I should not have thought of
such a thing as allowing Captain Jabe and Abner to sail off by
themselves this morning."

"Really," replied Walkirk, "you care much more for angling than I
supposed."

Truly I cared very little for angling, but I had discovered that Walkirk
was an indefatigable and patient fisherman. I had intended that he
should cross the stream with me, but it now occurred to me that it would
be far better to let him stay on this side, while I pursued my
researches alone. Accordingly I proposed that he should fish in the part
of the stream which I had seen the day before, while I pressed on
farther. "In this way," I remarked artfully, "we shall not interfere
with each other." Had I supposed that there was the slightest
possibility of the appearance on the stream of the apparition of the day
before, I should have requested Walkirk to fish from the top of a
distant tree. But I had no fears on this score. If what I had seen had
been a phantasm, my under-study would have to doze to see it, and I knew
he would not do that; and if what I had seen was real, it would not
appear this morning, for the water was too low for swimming. The creek,
as I now perceived, was affected by the tide, and its depth was very
much less than on the preceding afternoon.

I turned to the right, and followed the stream for some distance; now
walking by its edge, and now obliged, by masses of undergrowth, to make
a detour into the woods. At last I came to a spot where the stream,
although wide, appeared shallow. In fa