“It’s gone!” cried the young hunter, in dismay.
“The canoe?” queried his cousin.
“Yes, I left it right here.”
“Then we are lost!”
Sick at heart, they caught each other by the arm and listened. The Indians were close at hand. What was to be done?
“Let us try to trick them!” whispered Dave, and caught up a stone that was handy. He threw it into the water with a splash, and then threw another stone after it. This accomplished, he drew Henry into the bushes, and both made their way down the shore for a good hundred feet, walking in shallow water to conceal the trail.
The mist over the water was thicker than in the forest, and when the Indians came out on the shore they could see little or nothing, even though they swung the torch in all directions.
“They leaped into the water,—I heard them,” said one warrior, in the Indian language.
“I heard them too,” answered another. “They must be swimming for the other side.”
“We’ll get into the canoe and look around,” put in a third.