The clouds broke slightly after midnight, occasionally yielding a glimpse of a star, but the uninhabited shore remained desolate and silent.  Day had not broken when we came to the mouth of the Illinois, and turned our bow cautiously up that stream, becoming immediately aware that we had entered new waters.  The negro, ignorant of what was before us, soon beached the boat onto a sand bar, and we decided it would be better for us to remain there until dawn.  This was not long in coming, the graying sky of the east slowly lighting up the scene, and bringing into view, little by little, our immediate surroundings.  These were lonely and dismal enough, yet revealed nothing to create alarm.  A desolate flat of sand extended from either shore back to a high ridge of clay, which was thickly wooded.  Slightly higher up the river this ridge approached more closely the bank of the stream, with trees actually overhanging the water, and a rather thick growth of underbrush hiding the ground.  The river was muddy, flowing with a swift current, and we could distinguish its course only so far as the first bend, a comparatively short distance away.  Nowhere appeared the slightest evidence of life, either on water or land; all was forlorn and dead, a vista of utter desolation.  Sam was standing up, his whole attention concentrated on the view up stream.

“Do steamers ever go up this river?” I asked, surprised at the volume of water.

He glanced around at me, as though startled at my voice.

“Yas, sah; putty near eny sorter boat kin.  Ah nebber tried it, fer Massa Donaldson hed no bus’ness ober in dis kintry, but Ah’s heerd ’em talk down ter Saint Louee.  Trouble is, sah, we’s got started in de wrong place—­dar’s plenty watah t’other side dis yere bar.”

“Who told you the best way to find Shrunk?”

His eyes widened and searched my face, evidently still somewhat suspicious of any white man.

“A nigger down Saint Louee way, sah.  Dey done cotched him, an’ brought him back afore he even got ter Beardstown.”

“And you believe you can guide us there?”

“Ah sure can, if whut dat nigger sed wus correct, sah.  Ah done questioned him mighty par’ticlar, an’ Ah ’members ebery sign whut he giv’ me.”  He grinned broadly.  “Ah sorter suspicion’d Ah mought need dat informa’ion.”

“All right, then; it is certainly light enough now—­let’s push off.”

We had taken the sand lightly, and were able to pole the boat into deep water with no great difficulty.  I remained crouched at the bow, ready for any emergency, while the engine resumed its chugging, and Sam guided us out toward the swifter current of the stream.  The broader river behind us remained veiled in mist, but the gray light was sufficient for our purpose, enabling us to proceed slowly until our craft had rounded the protruding headland, out of sight from below.  Here the main channel cut across to the left bank, and we forced into the deeper shadows of the overhanging woods.