"They're mighty oncareful is them same Injins," added the Irishman. "Whisht! but look! there's the divils this minute!"
As he spoke, Pat sprang up in great excitement, and pointed out on the river. Looking in the same direction Hezekiah caught the outlines of a long Indian canoe, filled with shadowy figures, which glided under the prow of the flat-boat, and came to rest as noiselessly as a phantom. Almost at the same instant a tufted head appeared above the gunwale, but it was crushed like an eggshell by a tremendous blow from the clubbed rifle of the Irishman. This was scarce done when the head and shoulders of another rose within a foot of where Hezekiah stood.
"Take that, you thundering redskin!" he exclaimed, striking him a terrible blow square in the face, that sent the dusky savage spinning out in mid-air, with the blood spouting from his nostrils. "Dern your picter! what business you got poking your head up here? I say, Waring, the Indians have come—look out for them."
In his excitement, Hezekiah Smith dropped his rifle, and springing up and down, as though the deck had suddenly become red hot, he delivered his fearful blows indiscriminately, while Pat kept his rifle swinging like the arms of a windmill.
"Begorrah! but the shillaleh comes natural to the Tipperary boys!" he exclaimed, between his set teeth, "and Pat Mulroony was born with one in his hand, and has been trained up to the illigant profession of breaking heads. Some of ye will go home to-night with bootiful faces, barrin' yer won't have any faces at all to go home with."
The Indians had evidently counted upon a surprise, and were not prepared for the furious courage with which they were received. They had followed the flat-boat until they judged the inmates were either asleep or off their guard, when they had come upon them in the stealthy manner narrated. The consequence was that in less than five minutes after the attack, the canoe had disappeared with the surviving Shawanoes, and nothing was heard save the slapping of Hezekiah's feet as he still sprang up and down the deck, and swung his arms around him ready for the next bronzed head that might offer. It required Pat some time to convince him that the danger for the present had passed, and there were no more enemies to contend against. By degrees he became quieted, and was able to converse rationally when Waring made his appearance among them.
During all this tumult, Lander had not shown himself, nor even so much as given evidence that he felt the least concern at the conflict going on. His daughter, when the firing had subsided, cautiously opened the door, and called the name of her lover. He instantly assured her that the savages had fled, and besought her to return to her room. First receiving a hurried but fervent kiss upon her blanched cheek, she complied, imploring him to be careful and not expose himself unnecessarily to danger.
A silence as profound as that of the tomb, succeeded the onslaught of the savages. Some minutes later, the noise of paddles was again heard; but, as Hezekiah had, by this time, gained his equilibrium of mind, and convinced that the Shawanoes could not immediately attempt the same stratagem in which they had so signally failed, he returned to his place beside Waring, leaving the Irishman alone at the bow of the boat.
"If you have no objection to tell me," said Hezekiah in his usual insinuating voice, "what do you propose to do, now that we are in the midst of danger? How, in thunder, are we to get out?"
"I am afraid," replied Waring, "that the Indians are constantly ranging up and down the river, and so long as we remain in the channel we are not safe."