At dawn Yan was up.  He made a fire and heated some water for tea.  They had very little bread left, but the Mallard was untouched.

Yan cleaned it, rolled it in wet clay, hid it in the ashes and covered it with glowing coals.  This is an Indian method of cooking, but Yan had not fully mastered it.  In half an hour he opened his clay pie and found the Duck burned on one side and very raw on the other.  Part of it was good, however, so he called his companion to breakfast.  Pete sat up white-faced and miserable, evidently a sick boy.  Not only had he caught cold, but he was upset by the swamp water he had taken.  He was paying the penalty of his indiscretion.  He ate a little and drank some tea, then felt better, but clearly was unable to travel that day.  Now for the first time Yan felt a qualm of fear.  Separated by a dozen miles of swamp from all help, what could he do with a sick boy?  He barked a small dead tree with a knife, then on the smooth surface wrote with a pencil, “Yan Yeoman and Pete Boyle camped here August 10, 18—­”

He made Pete comfortable by the fire, and, looking for tracks, he found that during the night two Deer had come nearly into the camp; then he climbed a high tree and scanned the southern horizon for a smoke sign.  He saw none there, but to the northwest, beyond some shining yellow hills, he discovered a level plain dotted over with black Fir clumps; from one of these smoke went up, and near it were two or three white things like teepees.

Yan hurried down to tell Pete the good news, but when he confessed that it was two miles farther from home Pete had no notion of going to the Indian camp; so Yan made a smoke fire, and knife-blazing the saplings on two sides as he went, he set out alone for the Indian camp.  Getting there in half an hour, he found two log shanties and three teepees.  As he came near he had to use a stick to keep off the numerous Dogs.  The Indians proved shy, as usual, to White visitors.  Yan made some signs that he had learned from Caleb.  Pointing to himself, he held up two fingers—­meaning that he was two.  Then he pointed to the Pine woods and made sign of the other lying down, and added the hungry sign by pressing in his stomach with the edges of the hands, meaning “I am cut in two here.”  The Chief Indian offered him a Deer-tongue, but did not take further interest.  Yan received it thankfully, made a hasty sketch of the camp, and returned to find Pete much better, but thoroughly alarmed at being so long alone.  He was able and anxious now to go back.  Yan led off, carrying all the things of the outfit, and his comrade followed slowly and peevishly.  When they came to the river, Pete held back in fear, believing that the loud noise they had heard was made by some monster of the deep, who would seize them.

Yan was certain it could be only an explosion of swamp gas, and forced Pete to swim across by setting the example.  What the cause really was they never learned.