Directly in their path ahead, Tad thought he made out a dark object drifting with the current. He scrambled to his knees, peering fixedly at the spot, and Abe stopped rowing. “What d’ye see?” asked the big oarsman in a low voice. “Just a floating log, I think,” Tad whispered, “only I thought I saw it move.” The dark object was only a dozen yards away now, and they could distinguish the outline of an uprooted tree trunk. Abe was just changing the flatboat’s course with a vigorous pull on the starboard oar when Tad gave a sudden exclamation. A part of the log had seemed to separate from the main trunk and had slid off with a considerable splash into the river. “Look!” cried Tad, pointing to the other side of the floating snag. A dark, round object which had been drawing rapidly away to the right disappeared under water at the boy’s exclamation. And though they watched intently while they passed the log, and for many minutes after, they had no further glimpse of it. “That must have been a man, swimmin’,” said Abe at length. “Too big fer a muskrat or a turtle. Didn’t look like a panther nor a b’ar. Runaway slave, I reckon. Wal, the pore devil needn’t have been so scairt of us.” Allen came forward, wakened by the talk, and heard their story. “That’s probably what the commotion on shore was about,” he said. “You fellers is both tired, so I’ll take her down awhile, jest driftin’. Won’t need a look-out that way.” And Abe and Tad, going aft to their blankets, were soundly sleeping within ten minutes. CHAPTER IX The little bear took very kindly to his new home. He slept well and rose to stretch himself hungrily when the first beam of sunlight came over the brown water. Softly he padded about the half circle of which his chain was the radius, but there seemed to be nothing to eat within reach. Rolled up in a blanket near by, however, he found one of the queer-smelling two-legged creatures that had been kind to him the day before, and being of an inquisitive turn of mind he immediately thrust a moist little black snout between the blanket and the sleeper’s neck. Tad, awakened by the touch of the cub’s cold nose, let out a squeal and rolled violently over on to Abe, who woke in his turn, and scrambled up, reaching for an ax. “Haw!” roared Allen. “Haw, haw, haw! Might think the ol’ Scratch himself was arter ye! Wal, he got ye up anyhow.” Abe and Tad rubbed their eyes and joined sheepishly in the laughter. And the cub, after looking at them all solemnly, returned to his investigation of Tad’s blanket. “This little feller’s got to have a name,” chuckled Abe. “He acts like he’s adopted us fer keeps, an’ if he’s goin’ to be a full-fledged hand we’ll have to call him somethin’.” “Let’s christen him Poke,” said Tad. “He’s always into everything.” And Poke was his name from that moment on.