So when it was good and dark I slid out from shore before moonrise and paddled over to the Illinois bank--about a quarter of a mile.  I went out in the woods and cooked a supper, and I had about made up my mind I would stay there all night when I hear a _plunkety-plunk, plunkety-plunk_, and says to myself, horses coming; and next I hear people's voices.  I got everything into the canoe as quick as I could, and then went creeping through the woods to see what I could find out.  I hadn't got far when I hear a man say: “We better camp here if we can find a good place; the horses is about beat out.  Let's look around.” I didn't wait, but shoved out and paddled away easy.  I tied up in the old place, and reckoned I would sleep in the canoe. I didn't sleep much.  I couldn't, somehow, for thinking.  And every time I waked up I thought somebody had me by the neck.  So the sleep didn't do me no good.  By and by I says to myself, I can't live this way; I'm a-going to find out who it is that's here on the island with me; I'll find it out or bust.  Well, I felt better right off. So I took my paddle and slid out from shore just a step or two, and then let the canoe drop along down amongst the shadows.  The moon was shining, and outside of the shadows it made it most as light as day.  I poked along well on to an hour, everything still as rocks and sound asleep. Well, by this time I was most down to the foot of the island.  A little ripply, cool breeze begun to blow, and that was as good as saying the night was about done.  I give her a turn with the paddle and brung her nose to shore; then I got my gun and slipped out and into the edge of the woods.  I sat down there on a log, and looked out through the leaves.  I see the moon go off watch, and the darkness begin to blanket the river. But in a little while I see a pale streak over the treetops, and knowed the day was coming.  So I took my gun and slipped off towards where I had run across that camp fire, stopping every minu