They watched for a long time, but nothing more was seen of the Indians, and presently Silvers asked Shamer if he was sure his eyesight had not deceived him.
“I am sure I saw them,” said the backwoodsman.
“I saw one of the Injuns myself,” put in Gilfoy. “Just as I spotted him he dodged out of sight.”
Just ahead of the boats the shore made a deep inward curve and Silvers decided that they should row directly across the bay thus formed.
“The bay isn’t over a mile across,” he said. “But if the redskins try to follow us up they will have a good three or four miles to travel.”
“Unless they put out in canoes,” came from Raymond.
“If they do that we can easily see them and be on our guard,” answered the leader of the expedition.
The constant rowing was beginning to tell on Dave’s hands, and he was not sorry when it came his turn to steer the craft occupied by himself, Henry, and Raymond.
Good progress was being made when, about three o’clock in the afternoon, the sky became unusually black and the wind freshed up at a remarkable rate.
“Now we are going to catch it,” said Raymond. “And a good deal more of wind than of rain.”