as fast as you can, the others have got quite a start of us, and we've
got to catch them."

For half an hour Walter paddled silently on, putting all his strength
into the strokes that sent the light craft leaping ahead, leaving the
pursuing dugout far behind.

"Charley," he called at last, "isn't it time we were up with at least
the chief's dugout?"

But only silence greeted his question, his plucky chum had fainted from
pain and the loss of blood.

For a few moments Walter let the canoe drift, while he pondered as to
what he should do. He felt sure that they had passed the captain and
his companions--but how? In the excitement of the pursuit he must have
passed unnoticed a point where the river branched and had taken the
wrong fork. There were, he knew, dozens of such forks to the river and
the mistake was one that might easily have been made under any
circumstances. The question now was what to do about it. To return
was to run the risk of falling into the hands of the convicts, and the
chance of finding the stream the others had taken was exceedingly
small. There might be a dozen tributaries between him and the
convicts' point, and how was he to tell which was the right one? In
desperation he crawled forward to his unconscious companion and
sprinkled his face again and again with water from the river.

At last Charley opened his eyes with a moan of pain.

"We're lost," shouted Walter eagerly. "I can't find the captain or
chief, what shall I do?" He bent his head to catch the feeble answer
from the wounded lad's lips.

"Keep on, keep on. When the river forks, take the largest stream,
and--" but Charley had fainted again.

With a heavy heart, Walter crept back to his place in the stern and
resumed the paddle. It was a terrible situation for a young,
inexperienced lad; lost on a great river in a frail canoe, pursued by
relentless enemies, and alone, except for a wounded, and perhaps dying
companion. It was enough to strike terror into one much older than our
boy hunter.

Throughout the long night the despairing lad paddled steadily on,
praying for the day to break. At last it came with a blaze of glory in
the east. When it grew light enough to see, he rose cautiously and
gazed around him.

The prospect was disheartening enough. The river had narrowed to less
than a hundred yards in width and wound and twisted amongst the waste
of marsh that stretched desolately ahead and astern as far as th