But before they reached him he was upon his feet, though he appeared to be somewhat dazed.
It was Doc Clancy who fired the shot, but, instead of killing our hero, the bullet merely grazed the side of his head, momentarily stunning him.
As soon as he saw that Van was not killed, Lank Edwards leveled his rifle at the raft and pulled the trigger.
But the bullet flew wide of the mark, owing to the fact of his being a poor marksman, and the distance being rather great.
The current must have been running pretty strong, for the raft was fast leaving them, and as the two villains had sought seclusion behind a huge log, it was impossible to get another shot at them.
"We must follow them," exclaimed our hero, who had now recovered the full use of his senses.
"How are we a-goin' ter, I'd like ter know?" returned the mate.
"There are similar rafts of logs here, are there not?"
"That's so," spoke up Jack Howard. "We'll board this big one right here, and then push her off and go shooting down the river after those fellows."
The raft he indicated was about eighty feet long by thirty in width, and it was lashed together so firmly that they saw their horses could be taken upon it with the greatest of safety.