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Updated: May 10, 2025
Faithfully, in the notebooks which he carried, he put down the details of his mental disturbances. By the time he reached Island No. 10 sandbar he had about resigned himself to the whimsicalities of river living. He had, however, preserved his attitude of aloofness and extraneousness. He regarded himself as a visiting observer who would record the events in which others had a part.
But the practised hand of Rasba had apparently left little to do, and it was superstitious dread that worried Prebol. So the river rat crept out on the sandbar, cast off the lines, and with a pole in one hand, succeeded in pushing out into the eddy where the shanty-boat drifted into the main current. Prebol, faint and weary with his exertions, fell upon his bunk.
Dawn was breaking in the sky when they came out of the swamp, and the first flush of the sun was lighting up the east when Breault headed his improvised craft for the sandbar upon which Nada and McKay had rested many hours before. Breault was tired, but his eyes lighted up when he saw the footprints in the sand, and he chuckled almost good humoredly. As a matter of fact he was in a good humor.
Caope's and another boat dropped off the river to visit friends, and mid-afternoon found Parson Rasba and Prebol alone again, drawing down toward Mendova. Prebol knew that town, and he told Rasba about it. He promised that they would see something of it, but they could not make it that evening, so they landed in Sandbar Reach for the night.
At length he found foothold on a sandbar, and taking to his heels, whirled the boat after him like a whale when harpooned; so that the hunters were obliged to cast off their rope, with which strange head-gear the venerable bull made off to the prairies. On the 24th of August, the bull boat emerged, with its adventurous crew, into the broad bosom of the mighty Missouri.
His eyes searched the river in the dark for some place to begin his work, and as they did so, he discovered a bright, glaring light a few miles below him across the sandbar at the head of which he had anchored.
As he lingered in the heavy growth bordering the riverbank he became aware of the fact that one of the man-creatures was roving in the forest, detached from the group on the sandbar, and he straightway began to follow and to watch his actions, being careful, however, always to remain in the dense cover where he could not be seen.
And if they did, would the Eskimo boatmen set their sail and go directly to East Cape? If they did, would they miss this diminutive cabin standing back as it did from the shore, and seeming but a part of the sandbar? "We'll put up a white flag, a skirt or something, on the peak of the cabin," she said, half talking to herself. "Do you think we ought to go right on to East Cape?" said Lucile.
He hoped not, but if he did, he would be careful to follow the advice Ed Billings gave his cousin Marcy and shoot high. The journey up the river was an uneventful one. The tables were pretty well filled at meal time, but Rodney could not have been more alone if he had been stranded on some sandbar in the middle of the stream.
Lester Terabon rowed down the rolling river waters in the dark night. He had, of course, looked out into the Mississippi shades from the security of landing, anchorage, and sandbar; he knew the looks of the night but not the activities of currents and bends when a gale is sweeping by and the air is, by turns, penetrated by the hissing of darting whitecaps and the roar of the blustering winds.
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