building, he hurried forward to assure himself. After
a few moments of apparently ineffectual search, he again
made his appearance, making the circuit of the hut to
discover his lost weapons, but in vain; when, in the
fierceness of his anger, he cried aloud, with a bitterness
that gave earnest of sincerity.

"By Gosh, I wish I had the curst British rascal who played
me this trick, on t'other shore--if I wouldn't tuck my
knife into his b----y gizzard, then is my name not Jeremiah
Desborough. What the h--l's to be done now?"

Taking advantage of his entrance into the hut, the two
individuals, first described, had stolen cautiously under
cover of the forest, until they arrived at its termination,
within about twenty yards of the shore, where however
there was no outward or visible sign of the individual
who had been Desborough's companion. In the bows of the
canoe were piled the blankets, and in the centre was
deposited the provision bag that had formed a portion of
their mutual load. The mast had not been hoisted, but
lay extended along the hull, its sail loosened and
partially covering the before mentioned article of
freightage. The bow half of the canoe pressed the beach,
the other lay sunk in the water, apparently in the manner
in which it had first approached the land.

Still uttering curses, but in a more subdued tone, against
"the fellor who had stolen his small bores," the angry
Desborough retraced his steps to the canoe. More than