“The Indians captured both Silvers and Henry and carried them off,” was Shamer’s answer, which caused Dave’s heart to sink like a lump of lead in his bosom.
CHAPTER VIII
IN THE HANDS OF FRIENDS
Shamer was completely exhausted, and reaching the trunk of the tree in which Dave was perched he threw himself down to rest and regain his breath. His uniform was much torn and covered with dirt and there were ugly scratches on his hands and face.
“I had a terrible time of it after we got separated,” he said, after a pause. “Four redskins attacked me, and I had to knock over two of them before I could get away. Then I ran down to the shore, and got into another mix-up with an Indian and some Frenchmen, who had just come down the lake in a big flat-bottomed boat.”
“Was that when you saw Henry and Silvers?”
“No, I didn’t see them until two hours later, after the fight came to an end. I hid in the rocks down near the lake, and while I was there I saw the flat-bottomed boat again. There were six Indians in it and two Frenchmen, besides Silvers and your cousin.”
“Was Henry much hurt?”
“I can’t tell you about that. Both he and Silvers were bound with ropes and crowded into the bow of the boat, and I couldn’t get a very good look at them on account of the others. I might have given the Frenchmen and the redskins a shot or two, but I was afraid they would come ashore again and catch me, for I was too tired out to run. I went back into the woods, and early this morning I got into a fight with another Indian. But he was wounded, and I soon got the best of him,” concluded the soldier.
“How was the flat-bottomed boat headed?” asked Dave, after another pause.