“Ay, ay,” said Bentley, going to the stern. “Give me the word.”
They were now approaching a place where a fall in the bed of the stream made a rapid, in which the water was churned into dazzling foam—a terrible sight to the eyes of those not accustomed to the terrors of the western plains. Naturally brave, Millicent could not help a shudder as she saw the danger upon which they were rushing headlong. But a glance at that old man standing upright in the bow of the raft, stern and calm, grimly confident in himself, restored her courage.
Down into that wild waste of wreathing foam rushed the raft. A rock was on the right hand, one on the left, and she seemed rushing directly upon destruction in front. But, all at once, the head of the raft swung round, and showed clear water in front, perhaps ten feet in width, into which they rushed. The spray flew high overhead and for a moment blinded them. The next moment they passed out of their danger, and lay rising and falling in the more tranquil water just above another beaver-dam, in the midst of the cañon.
“Aha,” said Ben. “Hyar we be. It’ll trouble Injuns to nose us out hyar. They’ll git round lively ef they do.”
The raft floated on, and struck against the little dam. Using his pole, Ben pushed it along close to the edge of the dam and gained the shore, where he helped Millicent from the raft, and secured it.
“Dat ish goot,” said Jan. “More ash petter ash goot. De ret Blackfeet nefer finds us here. Von’t tey pe mat!” and the Dutchman laughed loudly. “Vat you do now, Penn?”
“Do? I’m going fur help. I kin git it too. I seen Crow signs when I were out on the prairie after you, Bentley, and I think an old friend of mine, Falling Oak they call him, is out on the plains. Ef I kin find him, I’ll make ye safe, ef ye dar’ to stay.”
“I am willing,” said Millicent.
“And I,” said Bentley.
“I’d rudder go mit Penn, put if he say shtay here, I does it,” cried Jan.