It was finally decided to give up the hope of securing the remaining whites by this means. The sagacious Indians suspecting the relation which existed between one of them and one of the captives already in their possession, believed a much better opportunity would be offered. Love will play the wild with any man, and lead him to attempt deeds, which, in his cooler moments, he would pronounce madness. So they were content to bide their time.
CHAPTER VIII.
A NIGHT VOYAGE DOWN THE RIVER.—SINGULAR APPEARANCE.—THE DEPARTURE.
Huddled together in the densest portion of the wood on the island, were the little band of fugitives. While the fitful tumult of deadly strife was going on around them, they had been compelled to sit still and not raise a hand either on the defensive or offensive.
To McGowan especially this was exceedingly galling. Strong, ambitious and genuinely brave as he was, he longed to give the persecuting redskins a taste of his temper, and more than once he clutched his rifle with a resolve to go to the assistance of his friends. But there were more helpless ones that it was his duty to guard. He had agreed to remain by these unless called forth by imperative necessity.
The death of his old comrade Smith was a severe trial to him as well as to his family. He was stricken down so suddenly that he had scarcely time to realize it until now, when he sat quiet and meditative. Mrs. Smith had been bowed with grief ever since. Her smothered sobs now and then reached the ears and hearts of those around her, as she vainly endeavored to keep down her emotion.
Abram Smith sat stern and silent, grasping his gun and looking around him, as if longing for a chance to revenge the death of his parent. No evidence of feeling escaped him, but “still waters run deep,” and there can be no question but that the inmost recesses of his heart were deeply stirred.
As the night advanced and darkness increased, the fugitives gathered more closely together. In addition to the distress of mind they were exceedingly hungry, and their condition was therefore as uncomfortable as could be well imagined.
Suddenly a light footstep caught the ear of the two sentinels, and as they looked up they distinguished two forms that glided insidiously among them. The assuring voice of Napyank was immediately heard.
“Don’t be skeart; it’s us.”
“We are glad of your return; we’re beginning to get lonely.”