"I was not happy in me mind all the time at going away without looking for you, so, thinks I to myself, I'll try and find him.  I started up the stream again to the place where the canoe was upset.  Not a trace of you could I discover; so with a sad heart I began to make me way back again.  It struck me that, somehow or other, I must have wandered away from the river; and after trudging along all day I could nowhere find it.  I felt still more unhappy than I had done before, and so, thinking to solace myself, I sat down on a rock, and putting me fiddle to me chin, began playing away.  I tried one tune and then another, and a mighty dale of good it seemed to do me.  I was playing the `Groves of Blarney,' when half a dozen rid-skinned savages jumped out of the bushes and looked me full in the face.