“We must be ahead of the rebels,” the former spokesman said.
“I am sure of it, Hiram,” the eldest of the party replied.
“There they come,” Captain Brant cried five minutes later, pointing to the bow of a canoe which was just coming into view. “We’ll hitch our horses and be ready for them.”
Dismounting, they secured the animals behind a clump of trees, and then crept cautiously along to the edge of the river, concealing themselves behind some rocks.
Ignorant of the ambuscade, the occupants of the light craft paddled rapidly on. They had made good progress, and in another hour would arrive at a settlement where they could secure the aid the wounded man needed. For some reason, however, which they could not themselves explain, they hugged the south bank, and the river at that point was quite wide.
Suddenly one of the hidden horses broke its halter and ran wildly through the woods, startling the other animals until they neighed loudly.
“There must be a squad of horsemen over there,” Ira cried. “Quick! pull under cover of the right bank until we can look about us!”
Late obeyed hurriedly, and the canoe was turned toward the shore.
Crack! Crack! Crack! came the reports of three rifles, and the bullets struck the water behind, ahead, and below the craft.
Then she glided under the cover of the overhanging trees, but as she disappeared two more shots were fired from the ambush, a ball struck the prisoner, who had raised himself to learn the cause of the firing, in the breast, killing him instantly.