"Dead, I guess," he muttered. "Teach him to tree in my place, the darned heathen. Ugh!"
Picking up the senseless body he threw it over a log out of sight, and then, instead of returning to the tree, he crept cautiously back toward the river. The Indians were scattered along the banks, and, just as he peeped out, a loud whoop announced the discovery of the canoe.
"That'll bring 'em together," said he to himself. "I guess we'd better put out for camp."
He turned to go back, when, to his utter surprise, from every direction the savages bounded out upon him and clung to him like cats. At this moment the wonderful strength of the athlete showed itself. Stretching out his long arms, he dragged the Indians who clung to him on either side from their hold, and dashed them to the earth, and then, placing his back to a tree, he drew a knife and hatchet, and braining a Wyandot who rushed upon him incautiously, sent his knife through the shoulder of another, while he planted his right foot with desperate force in the stomach of a third, doubling him up and sending him rolling to the earth with the life nearly kicked out of his body. At the same time he gave utterance to a terrific yell, which rung through the arches of the deep woods, rivaling the shouts of his assailants. With savage screams the Indians rushed at him from three sides, but those long arms and feet made deadly work among them, and though a dozen rushed at him together his desperate valor kept them all at bay.
There was a hearty shout and war-cry from the rear, and, the Dead Chief and Will Floyd rushed in, scattering the savages right and left. They reached the side of the Yankee, who was fighting with desperate zeal.
"Break for the canoe," he whispered, as he struck down an Indian. "It's your only chance."
Darting round the tree, and overthrowing the savages who barred their way, they reached the canoe, which still lay upon the shore. So sudden was the action that the Indians were stupefied, and the brave trio gained a rod or so in advance before their foes started in pursuit. They had gained the canoe, the Dead Chief and the Yankee were already in it, and Floyd was following, when he fell by a hatchet hurled at him by Willimack. Seth would have turned back to aid him, but the Dead Chief seized the paddle and pushed off quickly, just as the Indians pounced upon the fallen man. A score of them plunged into the water, each with a hatchet or knife in his teeth, but the quick strokes of the paddle soon left them far behind. A useless volley from those on shore followed.
"Poor lad," said Yankee Seth. "I'm afeard he's gone under."
"The young soldier is very brave," replied the chief. "If he is not dead, he will die like a man. And now, hear the words of the Dead Chief. I swear by the grave of my father, by the totem of my tribe, that I will not go back to the village where my squaw and pappooses dwell, until the young war-chief is saved or I have avenged him. It is spoken; the Dead Chief can not lie."
"Good for yew, old man," said the Yankee. "I'm with yew threw thick an' thin. Thar's my hand on it. Shake."