way I'm thinking o' cold
zalmon is just horrid. I could eat it raw, or live even, without
waiting for it to be cooked. These aren't zalmon, but they're vish."

Nic said little, for he could think of nothing but the overseer coming
into sight with musket and dogs, and his eyes were constantly directed
up the river.

But Pete took it all more calmly. He had dragged the boat beneath the
shade of the overhanging tree, secured it to one of the boughs with the
remains of the rope, several feet having fortunately been passed through
the ring-bolt to lie loose in the bottom; and while Nic kept watch he
roughed out something in the shape of a couple of basket-like caps, wove
in and out a few leaves, and ended by placing them before his companion.

"They aren't very han'some, Master Nic," he said, "but they'll keep the
zun off. What do you zay now to lying down and having a nap while I
take the watch?"

"No, no," cried Nic excitedly; "let's go on at once."

"I'm ready, Master Nic, but, if you could take both oars, I've been
thinking that I could cut off one sleeve of my shirt, loosen and pull
out the threads, and then twissen 'em up into a sort o' fishing-line,
paying it over with some of the soft pitch here at the bottom of the
boat, so as it would hold together a bit."

"And what about a fish-hook?" asked Nic.

"Ah, that's what bothers me, master. I've been thinking that when we
get on into that great big marsh of a place where the river runs through
the trees we might stop and vish, for there must be plenty there, or
else the 'gators wouldn't be so plentiful. I did zee one big fellow,
close to the top, in the clear water where it looked like wine. I
thought it was a pike as we come up, and I felt as if I should like to
try for him; but how to do it without a hook's more than I can tell.
But we must have zomething to eat, Master Nic, or we shall be starved,
and never get away after all."

"Go on making your line," said Nic thoughtfully. "I'll row."

As Nic took both oars Pete unfastened the piece of rope, and the boat
began to glide along with the stream, while the latter burst into a low
and hearty laugh.

"On'y think o' that now, Master Nic. There's no need for me to spoil my
shirt when there's a vishing-line half-made, and a hook waiting to be
finished."

"Where? What do you mean?" cried Nic excitedly. "Why, here in the
bows, lad. I've on'y got to unlay this piece o' rope--it's nearly new--
and the