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Rh you want the blood?" "No," replied the latter. "Do you want the entrails?" "No." He then flung him a piece of the bird, and gorged the rest. At length they reached the river, and kept down the bank. About three o'clock, Strain was startled by Wilson's exclaiming, "My God, Sir, there is the raft!" and sure enough, there it was, deserted and floating quietly in the middle of the river, awaiting the action of the tide (it was then slack water) to determine its course.

The sight of that abandoned structure at first struck like an ice-bolt to the heart of both, but a single glance showed Strain that the blankets, spare arms, etc., had been taken away, and another, that about eight feet of rope, which had been used to lash the logs, was left untouched, while one of the paddles still remained. He concluded at once that the party had either obtained assistance and left the raft—in which case they would not require, and would probably neglect, the lashings—or that they had been murdered by Indians, who had left the raft adrift for the purpose of entrapping the remainder. In answer to Wilson's anxious inquiries, he frankly told him his conjectures. "Well, Sir," replied Wilson," if there be Indians about, you have three cartridges left, and are certain of three men, and I think with my machete I can give an account of two more." This was the ring of the true mettle, and pleased Strain much. While awaiting the progress of the raft, which drifted slowly toward their side of the river, they passed their leisure time in eating nuts. Finally, seeing it foul of some drift-wood about one hundred yards below, they after some difficulty got upon it, and proceeded with the current down the river. Strain, however, first made a thorough examination, to see if there was any blood or other evidence of a struggle upon it, or a note from Mr. Avery which might unravel the mystery.

After drifting half an hour they saw a clearing on the left bank; and soon after, in passing the mouth of a small stream on the same side, discovered two canoes approaching rapidly from below.

Not feeling assured that the three paddlers were not Indians, who might prove hostile, as they were colored and spoke loudly in a dialect which, at a distance, he could not understand. Strain determined to keep them at arms' length until assured of their peaceable intentions. He accordingly hailed when they came within rifle-shot, and asked who they were and where they were going. They replied, in Spanish, that they were friends, had just taken off his companions, and brought a letter to himself. True to his naval principles, never to let an enemy approach too near without declaring his intentions, Strain sat across the log and hailed as though he trod the deck of a man-of-war. These two skeletons on a mass of drift-wood thus demanding explanations, were very much like a shipwrecked mariner lashed to a spar bidding a vessel stand off till she showed her colors. When convinced, however, of the peaceable intentions of the natives, they gladly abandoned the raft and entered the canoe. Finding that the boatmen had tobacco and a pipe, Strain immediately borrowed them, and, for the first time since the 4th of February, enjoyed the luxury of a smoke.

It was just dark when they reached the village of Yavisa. The excitement was over—the