The Indian muttered something in his own tongue that was hardly complimentary to the whites. While Patience was trying to get up her courage to make the difficult spring back toward the land, the canoe had been concealed under some bushes, for Ranteo did not feel quite sure the whites were to be trusted; if so, why should this child come to warn him? He thought of all this as he drew his canoe up on land and hid it. He was standing, holding his hand out to Patience before she had gained courage enough to move. She took his hand and tried to jump, but the fright that had lent her strength was over now, and she was trembling and unsteady. Ranteo drew her to the rock on which he stood, then, raising her to his shoulder, stepped across to the land. He did not put her down, but turned into the unbroken forest by a path or trail which his Indian eye had traced.
CHAPTER IV.
CHAPTER IV.
“Little by little, sure and slow,