In a few minutes the old man grunted, shifted, turned round again, and then sat up hurriedly. First, he felt the bottom of the canoe with both hands and discovered several inches of water that had soaked through his blankets and clothes. After that, he looked up towards the sky. He searched silently for clouds and signs of rain. The moon was still there—as brilliant as ever. So were the stars! He got out of the canoe, felt himself all over again, bent down a second time to feel the water then, walking away a few paces, he gazed long and searchingly above him and turned around so as to inspect thoroughly the four points of the compass.
That was too much for the two Indians hiding in the bush. One started to grunt, the other to groan. In a second the old man understood the joke and burst out laughing, slapping his wet thighs with his two bony hands.
Two hours later the three men were squatting in front of a fire, drinking tea and talking. Every now and again I would hear a peal of laughter. They were still making merry over the joke.