A steam flowed out of the further side of the lake but it didn't flow into the river. As I walked , the flour poured out of the sack , making a little track all the way to the lake. I then tied up the sack with a piece of string and carried it back to the canoe.
Such were the preparations that I made for my escape , and when I thought them over, I felt very pleased . I said to myself , "They'll follow the track of that bag of stones to the reiver bank and drag the river for my dead body . They'll follow the flour track to the lake and go searching down the stream to find the robbers who killed me and stole the supplies. They won't search the river for anything but my body . They'll soon get tired of that and forget all about me . That'll be fine . I can stay anywhere I like , and the best place would be Jackson's Island. I know it pretty well and nobody ever goes there."
By this time it was quite dark. I felt very tired and fell asleep among my supplies in the canoe.
