CHAPTER IV

  THE INTELLIGENT CANOE

  Lennox, Willet and Tayoga fell asleep, one by one, and the Onondaga wasthe last to close his eyes. Then the three, wrapped in their blankets,lay in complete darkness on the stone shelf, with the canoe beside them.They were no more than the point of a pin in the vast wilderness thatstretched unknown thousands of miles from the Hudson to the Pacific,apparently as lost to the world as the sleepers in a cave ages earlier,when the whole earth was dark with forest and desert.

  Although the storm could not reach them it beat heavily for long hourswhile they slept. The sweep of the rain maintained a continuous drivingsound. Boughs cracked and broke beneath it. The waters of the river,swollen by the floods of tributary creeks and brooks, rose fast, bearingupon their angry surface the wreckage of trees, but they did not reachthe stone shelf upon which the travelers lay.

  Tayoga awoke before the morning, while it was yet so dark that histrained eyes could see but dimly the figures of his comrades. He sat upand listened, knowing that he must depend for warning upon his hearing,which had been trained to extreme acuteness by the needs of forestlife. All three of them were great wilderness trailers and scouts, butTayoga was the first of the three. Back of him lay untold generationsthat had been compelled to depend upon the physical senses and theintuition that comes from their uttermost development and co-ordination.Now, Tayoga, the product of all those who had gone before, was alsotheir finest flower.

  He had listened at first, resting on his elbow, but after a minute ortwo he sat up. He heard the rushing of the rain, the crack ofsplintering boughs, the flowing of the rising river, and the gurgling ofits waters as they lapped against the stone shelf. They would not enterit he knew, as he had observed that the highest marks of the floods laybelow them.

  The sounds made by the rain and the river were steady and unchanged. Butthe intuition that came from the harmonious working of senses, developedto a marvelous degree, sounded a warning note. A danger threatened. Hedid not know what the danger was nor whence it would come, but the soulof the Onondaga was alive and every nerve and muscle in his body wasattuned for any task that might lie before him. He looked at hissleeping comrades. They did not stir, and their long, regular breathingtold him that no sinister threat was coming to them.

  But Tayoga never doubted. The silent and invisible warning, like amodern wireless current, reached him again. Now, he knelt at the veryedge of the shelf, and drew his long hunting knife. He tried to piercethe darkness with his eyes, and always he looked up the stream in thedirection in which they had come. He strained his ears too to theutmost, concentrating the full powers of his hearing upon the river, butthe only sounds that reached him were the flowing of the current, thebubbling of the water at the edges, and its lapping against a tree orbush torn up by the storm and floating on the surface of the stream.

  The Onondaga stepped from the shelf, finding a place for his feet increvices below, the water rising almost to his knees, and leaned fartherforward to listen. One hand held firmly to a projection of stone aboveand the other clasped the knife.

  Tayoga maintained the intense concentration of his faculties, as if hehad drawn them together in an actual physical way, until they bore uponone point, and he poured so much strength and vitality into them that hemade the darkness thin away before his eyes and he heard noises of thewater that had not come to him before.

  A broken bough, a bush and a sapling washed past. Then came a tree, anddeflecting somewhat from the current it floated toward the shelf.Leaning far over and extending the hand that held the knife, Tayogastruck. When the blade came back it was red and the young Onondagauttered a tremendous war whoop that rang and echoed in the confines ofthe stony hollow.

  Lennox and Willet sprang to their feet, all sleep driven away at once,and instinctively grasped their rifles.

  "What is it, Tayoga?" exclaimed the startled Willet.

  "The attack of the savage warriors," replied the Onondaga. "One camefloating on a tree. He thought to slay us as we slept and take away ourscalps, but the river that brought him living has borne him away dead."

  "And so they know we're here," said the hunter, "and your watchfulnesshas saved us. Well, Tayoga, it's one more deed for which we have tothank you, but I think you'd better get back on the shelf. They can firefrom the other side, farther up, and although it would be at random, abullet or two might strike here."

  The Onondaga swung himself back and all three flattened themselvesagainst the rock. After Tayoga's triumphant shout there was no soundsave those of the river and the rain. But Robert expected it. He knewthe horde would be quiet for a while, hoping for a surprise the secondtime after the first one had failed.

  "It was bold," he said, "for a single warrior to come floating down thestream in search of us."

  "But it would have succeeded if Tayoga hadn't been awake," said thehunter. "One warrior could have knifed us all at his leisure."

  "Where do you think they are now?"

  "They must be crouched in the shelter of rocks. If they had nothing overthem the storm would take the fighting spirit for the time out ofsavages, even wild for scalps. I'm mighty glad we have the canoe. Itholds the food we need for a siege, and if the chance for escape comesit will bear us away. I think, Tayoga, I can see a figure stirringamong the boulders on the other side farther up."

  "I see two," said the Onondaga, "and doubtless there are others whom wecannot see. Keep close, my friends, I think they are going to fire."

  A dozen rifles were discharged from a point about a hundred yards away,the exploding powder making red dots in the darkness, the bulletsrattling on the stone cliff or sending up little spurts of water fromthe river. The volley was followed by a shrill, fierce war whoop, andthen nothing was heard but the flowing of the river and the rushing ofthe rain.

  "You are not touched?" said Tayoga, and Robert and Willet quicklyanswered in the negative.

  "They don't know just which way to aim their guns," said Willet, "and solong as we keep quiet now they won't learn. That shout of yours, Tayoga,was not enough to tell them."

  "But they must remember about where the hollow is, although they can'tpull trigger directly upon it, owing to the darkness and storm," saidRobert.

  "That about sums it up, my boy," said the hunter. "If they do a lot ofrandom firing the chances are about a hundred to one they won't hit us,and the Indians don't have enough ammunition to waste that way."

  "I don't suppose we can launch the canoe and slip away in it?"

  "No, it would be swamped by the rain and the flood. It's likely, too,that they're on watch for us farther down the stream."

  "Then this is our home and fortress for an indefinite time, and, thatbeing the case, I'm going to make myself as easy as I can."

  He drew the blanket under his body again and lay on his elbow, but heheld his rifle before him, ready for battle at an instant's notice. Hisfeeling of comfort returned and with it the sense of safety. The bulletsof the savages had gone so wild and the darkness was so deep that theirshelter appeared to him truly as a fortress which no numbers ofbesiegers could storm.

  "Do you think they'll try floating down the stream on trees or logsagain, Tayoga?" he asked.

  "No, the danger is too great," replied the Onondaga. "They know now thatwe're watching."

  An hour passed without any further sign from the foe. The rain decreasedsomewhat in violence, but, as the wind rose, its rush and sweep made asmuch sound as ever. Then the waiting was broken by scattering shots,accompanied by detached war whoops, as if different bands were near.From their shelter they watched the red dots that marked the dischargesfrom the rifles, but only one bullet came near them, and after chippinga piece of stone over their heads it dropped harmlessly to the floor.

  "That was the one chance out of a hundred," said Willet, "and now we'resafe from the next ninety-nine bullets."

  "I trust the rule will work," said Robert.

  "I wish you'd hold my left hand in a firm grip," said Willet
.

  "I will, but why?" returned the youth.

  "If I get a chance I'm going to drag up some of that dead and floatingwood and lay it along the edge of the shelf. In the dark the savagescan't pick us off, but we'll need a barrier in the morning."

  "You're right, Dave, of course. I'm sorry I didn't think of it myself."

  "One of us thought of it, and that's enough. Hold my hand hard, Robert.Don't let your grip slip."

  By patient waiting and help from the others Willet was able to draw uptwo logs of fair size, and some smaller pieces which they placedcarefully on the edge of the stone shelf. Lying flat behind them, theywould be almost hidden, and now they could await the coming of daylightwith more serenity.

  A long time passed. The three ate strips of the deer meat, and Roberteven slept for a short while. He awoke to find a further decrease in therain, although the river was still rising, and Tayoga and Willet were ofthe opinion that it would stop soon, a belief that was justified in anhour. Robert soon afterward saw the clouds move away, and disclose astrip of dark blue sky, into which the stars began to come one by one.

  "The night will grow light soon," said Tayoga, "then it will darkenagain for a little time before the coming of the day."

  "And we've built our breastwork none too soon," said Willet. "There'llbe so many stars by and by that those fellows can pick out our place andsend their bullets to it. What do you think, Tayoga? Is it just a bandtaking the chance to get some scalps, or are they sent out by theGovernor General of Canada to do wicked work in the forest and then bedisowned if need be?"

  "I cannot tell," replied the Onondaga. "Much goes on in the land ofOnontio at Stadacona (Quebec). He talks long in whispers with thenorthern chiefs, and often he does not let his left ear know what theright ear hears. Onontio moves in the night, while Corlear sleeps."

  "That may be so, Tayoga, but whether it's so or not I like ourstraightforward English and American way best. We may blunder along fora while and lose at first, but to be open and honest is to be strong."

  "I did not say the ways of Corlear would prevail. It is not the talk ofCorlear that will keep the Hodenosaunee faithful to the English side,but it is the knowledge of the fifty sachems that when Onontio isspeaking in a voice of honey he is to be trusted the least."

  Willet laughed.

  "I understand, Tayoga," he said. "You're for us not because you have somuch faith in Corlear, but because you have less in Onontio. Well, it'sa good enough reason, I suppose. But all Frenchmen are not tricksters.Most of 'em are brave, and when they're friends they're good and true.About all I've got to say against 'em is that they're willing to shuttheir eyes to the terrible things their allies do in their name. ButI've had a lot to do with 'em on the border, and you can get to like'em. Now, that St. Luc we met was a fine upstanding man."

  "But if an enemy, an enemy to be dreaded," said Tayoga with his usualgravity.

  "I wouldn't mind that if it came to war. In such cases the best men makethe best enemies, I suppose. He had a sharp eye. I could see how hemeasured us, and reckoned us up, but he looked most at Robert here."

  "His sharp eye recognized that I was the most important of the three,"said Robert lightly.

  "Every fellow is mighty important to himself," said Willet, "and hecan't get away from it. Tayoga, do you think you see figures moving onthe other bank there, up the stream?"

  "Two certainly, others perhaps, Great Bear," replied the Onondaga. "Imight reach one with my rifle."

  "Don't try it, Tayoga. We're on the defense, and we'll let 'em make allthe beginnings. The sooner they shoot away their ammunition the betterit will be for us. I think they'll open fire pretty soon now, becausethe night is growing uncommon bright. The stars are so big and shining,and there are so many of them they all look as if they had come to aparty. Flatten yourselves down, boys! I can see a figure kneeling by abowlder and that means one shot, if not more."

  They lay close and Robert was very thankful now for the logs they haddragged up from the water, as they afforded almost complete shelter. Thecrouching warrior farther up the stream fired, and his bullet struck thehollow above their heads.

  "A better aim than they often show," said Willet.

  More shots were fired, and one buried itself in the log in front ofRobert. He heard the thud made by the bullet as it entered, and oncemore he was thankful for their rude breastwork. But it was the only onethat struck so close and presently the savages ceased their fire,although the besieged three were still able to see them in the brilliantmoonlight among the bowlders.

  "They're getting a bit too insolent," said the hunter. "Maybe they thinkit's a shorter distance from them to us than it is from us to them, andthat our bullets would drop before they got to 'em. I think, Tayoga,I'll prove that it's not so."

  "Choose the man at the edge of the water," said Tayoga. "He has firedthree shots at us, and we should give him at least one in return."

  "I'll pay the debt, Tayoga."

  Robert saw the warrior, his head and shoulders and painted chestappearing above the stone. The distance was great for accuracy, but thelight was brilliant, and the rifle of the hunter rose to his shoulder.The muzzle bore directly upon the naked chest, and when Willet pulledthe trigger a stream of fire spurted from the weapon.

  The savage uttered a cry, shot forward and fell into the stream. Hislifeless body tossed like dead wood on the swift current, reappeared andfloated by the little fortress of the three. Robert shuddered as he sawthe savage face again, and then he saw it no more.

  The savages uttered a shout of grief and rage over the loss of thewarrior, but the besieged were silent. Willet, as he reloaded his rifle,gave it an affectionate little pat or two.

  "It's a good weapon," he said, "and with a fair light I was sure Iwouldn't miss. We've given 'em fair warning that they've got a nest ofpanthers here to deal with, and that when they attack they're takingrisks. Can you see any of 'em now, Tayoga?"

  "All have taken to cover. There is not one among them who is willing toface again the rifle of the Great Bear."

  Willet smiled with satisfaction at the compliment. He was proud of hissharp-shooting, and justly so, but he said modestly:

  "I had a fair target, and it will do for a warning. I think we can lookfor another long rest now."

  The dark period that precedes the dawn came, and then the morningflashed over the woods. Robert, from the hollow, looking across the farshore, saw lofty, wooded hills and back of them blue mountains. Beads ofrain stood on the leaves, and the wilderness seemed to emerge, fresh anddripping, from a glorious bath. Pleasant odors of the wild came to him,and now he felt the sting of imprisonment there among the rocks. Hewished they could go at once on their errand. It was a most unfortunatechance to have been found there by the Indians and to be heldindefinitely in siege. The flooded river would have borne them swiftlyin their canoe toward the St. Lawrence.

  "Mourning, Robert?" said Willet who noticed his face.

  "For the moment, yes," admitted young Lennox, "but it has passed. Iwanted to be going on this lively river and through the green wood, butsince I have to wait I can do it."

  "I feel the same way about it, and we're lucky to have such a fort asthe one we are in. I think the savages will hang on here for a longwhile. Indians always have plenty of time. That's why they're morepatient than white men. Like as not we won't get a peep out of them allthe morning."

  "Lennox feels the beauty of the day," said Tayoga, "and that's why hewants to leave the hollow and go into the woods. But if Lennox will onlythink he'll know that other days as fine will come."

  The eye of the young Onondaga twinkled as he delivered his jestingadvice.

  "I'll be as patient as I can," replied Robert in the same tone, "buttomorrow is never as good as today. I wait like you and Dave onlybecause I have to do so."

  "In the woods you must do as the people who live there do," said thehunter philosophically. "They learn how to wait when they're young. Wedon't know how long we'll be here. A little
more of the deer, Tayoga.It's close to the middle of the day now and we must keep our strength. Iwish we had better water than that of a flooded and muddy river todrink, but it's water, anyhow."

  They ate, drank and refreshed themselves and another long period ofinaction followed. The warriors--at intervals--fired a few shots butthey did no damage. Only one entered the hollow, and it buried itselfharmlessly in their wooden barrier. They suffered from nothing exceptthe soreness and stiffness that came from lying almost flat and so longin one position. The afternoon, cloudless and brilliant, waned, and theair in the recess grew warm and heavy. Had it not been for the necessityof keeping guard Robert could have gone to sleep again. The flood in theriver passed its zenith and was now sinking visibly. No more trees orbushes came floating on the water. Willet showed disappointment over thefailure of the besiegers to make any decided movement.

  "I was telling you, Robert, a while ago," he said, "that Indians mostlyhave a lot of time, but I'm afraid the band that's cornered us here hasgot too much. They may send out a warrior or two to hunt, and the othersmay sit at a distance and wait a week for us to come out. At least itlooks that way to a 'possum up a tree. What do you think of it, Tayoga?"

  "The Great Bear is right," replied the Onondaga. "He is always rightwhen he is not wrong."

  "Come now, Tayoga, are you making game of me?"

  "Not so, my brother, because the Great Bear is nearly always right andvery seldom wrong. It is given only to Manitou never to be wrong."

  "That's better, Tayoga. If I can keep up a high average of accuracy I'msatisfied."

  Tayoga's English was always precise and a trifle bookish, like that of aman speaking a language he has learned in a school, which in truth wasthe case with the Onondaga. Like the celebrated Thayendanegea, theMohawk, otherwise known as Joseph Brant, he had been sent to a whiteschool and he had learned the English of the grammarian. Willet toospoke in a manner much superior to that of the usual scout and hunter.

  "If the Indians post lines out of range and merely maintain a watch whatwill we do?" asked Robert. "I, for one, don't want to stay hereindefinitely."

  "Nor do any of us," replied Willet. "We ought to be moving. A long delayhere won't help us. We've got to think of something."

  The two, actuated by the same impulse, looked at Tayoga. He was verythoughtful and presently glanced up at the heavens.

  "What does the Great Bear think of the sky?" he asked.

  "I think it's a fine sky, Tayoga," Willet replied with a humorousinflection. "But I've always admired it, whether it's blue or gray orjust black, spangled with stars."

  Tayoga smiled.

  "What does the Great Bear think of the sky?" he repeated. "Do the signssay to him that the coming night will be dark like the one that has justgone before?"

  "They say it will be dark, Tayoga, but I don't believe we'll have therain again."

  "We do not want the rain, but we do want the dark. Tonight when the moonand stars fail to come we must leave the hollow."

  "By what way, Tayoga?"

  The Onondaga pointed to the river.

  "We have the canoe," he said.

  "But if they should hear or see us we'd make a fine target in it," saidRobert.

  "We won't be in it," said the Onondaga, "although our weapons andclothes will."

  "Ah, I understand! We're to launch the canoe, put in it everythingincluding our clothes, except ourselves, and swim by the side of it.Three good swimmers are we, Tayoga, and I believe we can do it."

  The Onondaga looked at Willet, who nodded his approval.

  "The chances will favor us, and we'd better try it," he said, "that is,if the night is dark, as I think it will be."

  "Then it is agreed," said Robert.

  "It is so," said Tayoga.

  No more words were needed, and they strengthened their hearts for thedaring attempt, waiting patiently for the afternoon to wane and die intothe night, which, arrived moonless and starless and heavy with dark, asthey had hoped and predicted. Just before, a little spasmodic firingcame from the besiegers, but they did not deign to answer. Instead theywaited patiently until the night was far advanced and then they preparedquickly for running the gauntlet, a task that would require the greatestskill, courage and presence of mind. Robert's heart beat hard. Like theothers he was weary of the friendly hollow that had served them so well,and the murmuring of the river, as it flowed, invited them to come onand use it as the road of escape.

  The three took off all their clothing and disposed everything carefullyin the canoe, laying the rifles on top where they could be reached witha single swift movement of the arm. Then they stared up and down thestream, and listened with all their powers of hearing. No savage was tobe seen nor did anyone make a sound that reached the three, althoughRobert knew they lay behind the rocks not so very far away.

  "They're not stirring, Tayoga," whispered the hunter. "Perhaps theythink we don't dare try the river, and in this case as in most othersthe boldest way is the best. Take the other end of the canoe, and we'lllift it down gently."

  He and the Onondaga lowered the canoe so slowly that it made no splashwhen it took the water, and then the three lowered themselves in turn,sinking into the stream to their throats.

  "Keep close to the bank," whispered the hunter, "and whatever you dodon't make any splash as you swim."

  The three were on the side of the craft next to the cliff and theirheads did not appear above its side. Then the canoe moved down thestream at just about the speed of the current, and no human handsappeared, nor was any human agency visible. It was just a wanderinglittle boat, set adrift upon the wilderness waters, a light shell, butwith an explorer's soul. It moved casually along, keeping nearest to thecliff, the safest place for so frail a structure, hesitating two orthree times at points of rocks, but always making up its mind to go ononce more, and see where this fine but strange river led.

  Luckily it was very dark by the cliff. The shadows fell there like blackblankets, and no eye yet rested upon the questing canoe which kept itsway, idly exploring the reaches of the river. Gasna Gaowo, this barkcanoe of red elm, was not large, but it was a noble specimen of itskind, a forest product of Onondaga patience and skill. On either sidenear the prow was painted in scarlet a great eagle's eye, and now thetwo large red eyes of the canoe gazed ahead into the darkness, seekingto pierce the unknown.

  The canoe went on with a gentle, rocking motion made by the current,strayed now and then a little way from the cliff, but always came backto it. The pair of great red eyes stared at the cliff so close and atthe other cliff farther away and at the middle of the stream, which wasnow tranquil and unruffled by the wreckage of the forest blown into thewater by the storm. The canoe also looked into one or two little coves,and seeing nothing there but the river edge bubbling against the stone,went on, came to a curve, rounded it in an easy, sauntering but skillfulfashion, and entered a straight reach of the stream.

  So far the canoe was having a lone and untroubled journey. The riverwidening now and flowing between descending banks was wholly its own,but clinging to the habit it had formed when it started it still hung tothe western bank. The night grew more and more favorable to theundiscovered voyage it wished to make. Masses of clouds gathered andhovered over that particular river, as if they had some especial objectin doing so, and they made the night so dark that the red eyes of thecanoe, great in size though they were, could see but a little way downthe stream. Yet it kept on boldly and there was a purpose in its course.Often it seemed to be on the point of recklessly running against therocky shore, but always it sheered off in time, and though its advancewas apparently casual it was moving down the stream at a great rate.

  The canoe had gone fully four hundred yards when an Abenaki warrior onthe far side of the river caught a glimpse of a shadow moving in theshadow of the bank, and a sustained gaze soon showed to him that it wasa canoe, and, in his opinion, a derelict, washed by the flood from somecamp a long distance up the stream. He watched it for a little w
hile,and was then confirmed in his opinion by its motion as it floated lazilywith the current.

  The darkness was not too great to keep the Abenaki from seeing that itwas a good canoe, a fine shell of Iroquois make, and canoes werevaluable. He had not been able to secure any scalp, which was a saddisappointment, and now Manitou had sent this stray craft to him as aconsolation prize. He was not one to decline the gifts of the gods, andhe ran along the edge of the cliff until he came to a low point wellahead of the canoe. Then he put his rifle on the ground, dropped lightlyinto the stream, and swam with swift sure strokes for the derelict.

  As the warrior approached he saw that his opinion of the canoe was morethan justified. It had been made with uncommon skill and he admired itsstrong, graceful lines. It was not often that such a valuable prize cameto a man and asked to be taken. He reached it and put one hand upon theside. Then a heavy fist stretched entirely over the canoe and struck himsuch a mighty blow upon the jaw that he sank senseless, and when herevived two minutes later on a low bank where the current had cast him,he did not know what had happened to him.

  Meanwhile the uncaptured canoe sailed on in lonely majesty down thestream.

  "That was a shrewd blow of yours, Dave," said Robert. "You struck fairlyupon his jaw bone."

  "It's not often that I fight an Indian with my fists, and the chancehaving come I made the most of it," said the hunter. "He may have been asentinel set to watch for just such an attempt as we are making, butit's likely they thought if we made a dash for it we'd be in the canoe."

  "It was great wisdom for us to swim," said Tayoga. "Another sentinelseeing the canoe may also think it was washed away somewhere and ismerely floating on the waters. I can see a heap of underbrush that hasgathered against a projecting point, and the current would naturallybring the canoe into it. Suppose we let it rest there until it seems towork free by the action of the water, and then go on down the river."

  "It's a good idea, Tayoga, but it's a pretty severe test to remain underfire, so to speak, in order to deceive your enemy, when the road is openfor you to run away."

  "But we can do it, all three of us," said Tayoga, confidently.

  A spit of high ground projected into the river and in the course of timeenough driftwood brought by the stream and lodged there had made a raftof considerable width and depth, against which the canoe in itswandering course lodged. But it was evident that its stay in such a portwould be but temporary, as the current continually pushed and sucked atit, and the light craft quivered and swayed continually under the actionof the current.

  The three behind the canoe thrust themselves back into the mass ofvegetation, reckless of scratches, and were hidden completely for thetime. Since he was no longer kept warm by the act of swimming Robertfelt the chill of the water entering his bones. His physical desire toshiver he controlled by a powerful effort of the will, and, standing onthe bottom with his head among the boughs, he remained quiet.

  None of the three spoke and in a few minutes a warrior on the other sideof the stream, watching in the bushes, saw the dim outline of the canoein the darkness. He came to the edge of the water and looked at itattentively. It was apparent to him, as it had been to the other savage,that it was a stray canoe, and valuable, a fine prize for the taking.But he was less impulsive than the first man had been and at that pointthe river spread out to a much greater width. He did not know that hiscomrade was lying on the bank farther up in a half stunned condition,but he was naturally cautious and he stared at the canoe a long time.He saw that the action of the current would eventually work it loosefrom the raft, but he believed it would yet hang there for at least tenminutes. So he would have time to go back to his nearest comrade andreturn with him. Then one could enter the water and salvage the canoe,while the other stayed on the bank and watched. Having reached this wiseconclusion he disappeared in the woods, seeking the second Indian, butbefore the two could come together the canoe had worked loose and wasgone.

  The three hidden in the bushes had watched the Indian as well as thedusk would permit and they read his mind. They knew that when he turnedaway he had gone for help and they knew equally well that it was timefor the full power of the current to take effect.

  "Shove it off, Tayoga," whispered Willet, "and I think we'd better helpalong with some strokes of our own."

  "It is so," said Tayoga.

  Now the wandering canoe was suddenly endowed with more life and purpose,or else the current grew much swifter. After an uneasy stay with theboughs, it left them quickly, sailed out toward the middle of thestream, and floated at great speed between banks that were growing highagain. The friendly dark was also an increasing protection to the threewho were steering it. The heavy but rainless clouds continued to gatherover them, and the canoe sped on at accelerated speed in an opaqueatmosphere. A mile farther and Willet suggested that they get into thecanoe and paddle with all their might. The embarkation, a matter ofdelicacy and difficulty, was made with success, and then they used thepaddles furiously.

  The canoe, suddenly becoming a live thing, leaped forward in the water,and sped down the stream, as if it were the leader in a race. Far behindthem rose a sudden war cry, and the three laughed.

  "I suppose they've discovered in some way that we've fled," said Robert.

  "That is so," said Tayoga.

  "And they'll come down the river as fast as they can," said Willet, "butthey'll do no more business with us. I don't want to brag, but you can'tfind three better paddlers in the wilderness than we are, and with amile start we ought soon to leave behind any number of warriors who haveto run through the woods and follow the windings of the stream."

  "They cannot catch us now," said Tayoga, "and I will tell them so."

  He uttered a war whoop so piercing and fierce that Robert was startled.It cut the air like the slash of a sword, but it was a long cry, full ofvaried meaning. It expressed satisfaction, triumph, a taunt for the foe,and then it died away in a sinister note like a threat for any who triedto follow. Willet laughed under his breath.

  "That'll stir 'em, Tayoga," he said. "You put a little dart squarely intheir hearts, and they don't like it. But they can squirm as much asthey please, we're out of their reach now. Hark, they're answering!"

  They heard a cry from the savage who had besieged them, but it wasfollowed by a long silence. The three paddled with their utmoststrength, the great muscles on their arms rising and falling with theirexertions, and beads of perspiration standing out on their foreheads.

  Hours passed. Mile after mile fell behind them. The darkness began tothin, and then the air was shot with golden beams from the rising sun.Willet, heaving an immense sigh of relief, laid his paddle across thecanoe.

  "The danger has passed," he said. "Now we'll land, put on our clothesand become respectable."

 
Joseph A. Altsheler's Novels
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»The Free Rangers: A Story of the Early Days Along the Mississippiby Joseph A. Altsheler
»The Star of Gettysburg: A Story of Southern High Tideby Joseph A. Altsheler
»The Shades of the Wilderness: A Story of Lee's Great Standby Joseph A. Altsheler
»The Quest of the Four: A Story of the Comanches and Buena Vistaby Joseph A. Altsheler
»The Rock of Chickamauga: A Story of the Western Crisisby Joseph A. Altsheler
»The Texan Scouts: A Story of the Alamo and Goliadby Joseph A. Altsheler
»The Guns of Shiloh: A Story of the Great Western Campaignby Joseph A. Altsheler
»The Scouts of the Valleyby Joseph A. Altsheler
»The Young Trailers: A Story of Early Kentuckyby Joseph A. Altsheler
»The Scouts of Stonewall: The Story of the Great Valley Campaignby Joseph A. Altsheler
»The Lords of the Wild: A Story of the Old New York Borderby Joseph A. Altsheler
»The Riflemen of the Ohio: A Story of the Early Days along The Beautiful Riverby Joseph A. Altsheler
»The Sword of Antietam: A Story of the Nation's Crisisby Joseph A. Altsheler
»The Sun of Quebec: A Story of a Great Crisisby Joseph A. Altsheler
»The Masters of the Peaks: A Story of the Great North Woodsby Joseph A. Altsheler
»The Last of the Chiefs: A Story of the Great Sioux Warby Joseph A. Altsheler