that piece of leather, extracting from it whatever life-giving
substance it contained. When it had been converted to mere pulp, he
helped himself to another piece. He was in a most desperate situation,
but if he could sustain his strength for another night and day he
believed that his life would be spared. Surely along that lake he
would find human beings, whether Indians or whites he did not care, who
would give him food.

He awoke early the next morning, and having partaken his breakfast of
another piece of boot, he pushed off his raft. There was only one way
for him to go, and that was with the breeze which was drawing down the
lake. The mist was now lifting, and although he strained his eyes, he
could see no sign of life. He had to pole the raft now, and in order
to do so he was forced to keep close to the shore where the water was
shallow.

Thus all through the morning and far on into the afternoon he urged the
raft forward with all the strength at his command. There were so many
curves to the shore that following these lengthened the voyage. From
point to point he moved, each time to be disappointed as he looked
ahead and saw nothing but trees and water.

The sun was hot, and the perspiration poured down his face. But with
the energy of despair he drove his pole again and again into the water.
As the afternoon waned, and night drew near, the limit of his endurance
was reached, and he knew that he could do no more. He had struggled
for life, but to no purpose. Rest was all that he cared for now. His
head began to swim, and he sank exhausted upon the raft. And there he
lay, face downward, while the raft drifted at its own sweet will.
Presently a breeze sprang up and cooled the air. But it did not affect