Mad Anthony's scouts; or, The rangers of Kentucky

by Edward Sylvester Ellis

The flat-boat had a long oar swung at either end, by which its motions were controlled, much in the same manner that the rafts which descend our rivers at this day are managed.

To guard as much as possible against the calamity mentioned, Hezekiah Smith and Pat Mulroony passed to the forward part of the boat, so as to be ready, not only to sheer the boat off, when "breakers" were discovered, but to be prepared for any venturesome Shawanoes that might choose this as their point of attack.

Mr. Lander and his daughter remained below, as both well knew their presence would be of no assistance to those above; and the whites were thus disposed when the incident we are about to describe took place.

Hezekiah stood leaning over the prow, listening intently for the least evidence of the approach of their enemies. The only sound as yet heard, was what might be characterized as the audible silence of the forest—that deep, solemn roar, like the distant voice of the ocean, that is as eternal as the great sea itself.

Now and then, the melancholy night wind moaned through the tree tops, with a dismal and lonely voice, in consonance with the feelings of the three listeners; and once or twice the far off scream of some denizen of the forest was borne faintly forward to their ear.

Then, again, the silence became so profound, that the soft ripple of the current could be heard against some projecting root, or dipping branch. But these sounds were all natural to the wilderness, and excited no emotions, except to add to the dreary loneliness of the scene.

The New Englander had stood in the attitude of attention for more than an hour, when he detected the cautious dip of a paddle. He instantly raised his head and peered out in the direction from which it came, but in the Stygian darkness could detect nothing at all. He maintained the same attitude for full an hour, during which he heard the sound repeated twice. Fully satisfied that strangers were in the vicinity, he gave utterance to a suppressed whistle, to place Waring on the guard, and leaning toward Pat, he asked in a whisper whether, if he had no objection to tell, he had detected any suspicious sound.

"There's a haythen canoe that has been following us for the last hour or more, or my name isn't Pat Mulroony."

"Hist! there it is again!" admonished Hezekiah, arching his neck, and gazing out in the darkness. Both listened, but Pat failed to hear that which had startled his companion.