[1] A fact.
CHAPTER VI.
A YANKEE RUSE.
The strange apparition was gone, and the next moment the loon-call sounded from the depths of the woods, mingled with cries which seemed to burst from a hundred throats. The young soldier bounded across the open space, and ran at his best speed toward the place where he had left the boat. Suddenly, without warning, two dark figures started up in his path and seized him, and he thought himself again in the hands of his enemies, when he heard one of his captors say, in a nasal tone not to be mistaken: "This yew, capting?" He had fallen into the hands of his friends!
"All right, Seth," he answered. "Get back to the canoe as quick as you can. The woods are alive with savages."
The Dead Chief led the way, and in a moment they were again in the canoe, and pushed off from the shore. The moon had gone down, and a darkness like Egypt had fallen on the river. The Dead Chief had taken the paddle, and, under the strokes of his vigorous arm, the light craft was shooting down the stream. The Pottawatomie knew his course well, and how much danger lay before them. Not a word was spoken, for they knew the virtue of silence. They must break through the cordon of their enemies at any and every hazard. On they went, the shadows dark about them, each grasping a weapon, and ready to defend himself to the utmost if attacked. They knew that by far the greater portion of the wild band had gathered about the death-fire, and yet they were certain that the Prophet was too able a warrior to leave the path to Vincennes clear.
"Back her a minnit, chief," whispered the Yankee. "I want tew speak tew the young 'un here."
By the skillful use of his paddle the chief managed to keep the canoe nearly stationary in the midst of the stream, while Seth bent forward and whispered to his young companion:
"Yew got away; heow did yew dew it?"
"By aid of the Skeleton Scout," replied Floyd, in the same tone. "Whatever he may be, he is at least a friend to us."