"It's mostly luck from now on," murmured Bridger as the outstretched claw of a snag rasped against the boat. "You keep in the bow to push us off. We'll let the current do the work."
The hour was now close to midnight and they would be passing the fort very soon.
Lander completely lost all sense of direction. He was adrift on a limitless sea. There was no longer any such things as shores. Only the subdued call of a voice on the left bank dispelled this illusion of infinite space.
Bridger at the tiller softly signaled for him to remain quiet. Lander crawled back and found his patron lying on top of the cargo-box.
"See or hear anything?" came the voice, sounding very close.
"Too foggy. They must have hung up till mornin'. Ye done gone an' let th' fire go out. Yer fire, much as it is mine. Stop yappin' an' help git it started ag'in."
Bridger chuckled and whispered.
"McKenzie has men out to watch for us. He's thought up some game to take the boat back. That dark smooch up there is Union."
Lander rubbed his eyes but was unable to locate the "smooch." No lights were burning
