ed upon finding excuses for her and trying to
defend her indefensible act. She was nothing to me. Aside from the
natural gratitude I felt for her since she had saved my life, I owed
her nothing. She was a half-naked little savage--I, a gentleman, and
an officer in the world's greatest navy. There could be no close bonds
of interest between us.

This line of reflection I discovered to be as distressing as the
former, but, though I tried to turn my mind to other things, it
persisted in returning to the vision of an oval face, sun-tanned; of
smiling lips, revealing white and even teeth; of brave eyes that
harbored no shadow of guile; and of a tumbling mass of wavy hair that
crowned the loveliest picture on which my eyes had ever rested.

Every time this vision presented itself I felt myself turn cold with
rage and hate against Snider. I could forgive the launch, but if he
had wronged her he should die--he should die at my own hands; in this I
was determined.

For two days we followed the river northward, cutting off where we
could, but confined for the most part to the game trails that
paralleled the stream. One afternoon, we cut across a narrow neck of
land that saved us many miles, where the river wound to the west and
back again.

Here we decided to halt, for we had had a hard day of it, and, if the
truth were known, I think that we had all given up hope of overtaking
the launch other than by the merest accident.

We had shot a deer just before our halt, and, as Taylor and Delcarte
were preparing it, I walked down to the water to fill our canteens. I
had just finished, and was straightening up, when something floating
around a bend above me caught my eye. For a moment I could not believe
the testimony of my own senses. It was a boat.

I shouted to Delcarte and Taylor, who came running to my side.

"The launch!" cried Delcarte; and, indeed, it was the launch, floating
down-river from above us. Where had it been? How had we passed it?
And how were we to reach it now, should Snider and the girl discover us?

"It's drifting," said Taylor. "I see no one in it."

I was stripping off my clothes, and Delcarte soon followed my example.
I told Taylor to remain on shore with the clothing and rifles. He
might also serve us better there, since it would give him an
opportunity to take a shot at Snider should the man discover us and
show himself.

With powerful strokes we swam out in the path of the oncoming l