“Hello! did you hear that?” exclaimed Smith, with a start.
Several whoops were heard upon the Kentucky shore, apparently in answer to those which had been uttered some minutes before, by the captors of Teddy. Peering through the trees, Smith added,
“There is a party coming off in a canoe. Get ready for hot work.”
“There don’t seem to be any good chance to hide,” remarked Joe, glancing around him, as though he cared little whether there was such place or not.
“No, we must stand our ground; they have just started.”
The canoe which was approaching was a large Indian one, in which were seated some three or four Indians, all busily plying their paddles. They headed straight for the upper end of the island, while the whites stood each behind a tree, with cocked rifles, waiting until they were compelled to fire.
Just as the canoe seemed about to touch, it sheered off and ran alongside of the flat-boat, where it lay against and parallel to it. The heads of four savages immediately appeared above, as though they were staggering under the weight of some heavy load. The next second, Teddy, bound hand and foot, was handed over and deposited in the bottom of the canoe. His friends could hear him muttering dire threats of vengeance, and daring his captors to loose him for a moment, all of which, it is needless to say, attracted no notice whatever from them.
The captive disposed of, the Indians followed, sinking the canoe to its very gunwales. They paddled away toward the shore, and in a few moments, disappeared from view.
“Now, at least,” said Smith, “the island and boat are free from the imps, and we can have a breathing spell. Let us go upon the old hulk.”
“What in the world do you want to do that for?”