As he spoke, several quails sped overhead with that whirring noise peculiar to the bird. This explained the cause of their fright.
Familiarity with danger breeds contempt, and our two friends, gathering courage every moment, again raised their heads, and looked steadily and unflinchingly out among the trees upon the river. And while thus engaged, they saw what at first appeared to be a small house floating down the river. As it drifted slowly past, the two rose to their feet, and ventured nearer the shore.
"O thunder!" exclaimed Hezekiah Smith, with a sigh of relief, "that's what they call a flat-boat."
"How do you know?" asked Pat; "ye says ye have never been in these parts, and how do you know what one is?"
"When I was at Pittsburgh, I seen two set out down the river, and they looked just like that."
"Be jabers! if it's a flat-boat there must be some one aboard of it," added Pat, his countenance lighting up; "and if there's some one aboard of it, be the same token, there's a chance of our getting down the river."
Hopeful and joyous, both scrambled headlong down the bank with the brilliant idea in their heads. The flat-boat was in the centre of the current, and, had the appearance of a square box; or, perhaps, a better idea of it could be given by comparing it to a cabin resting upon a scow, whose gunwales run higher than usual on every side. A long, sweeping oar was hung at either end, for the purpose of keeping the vessel in the channel, and guiding it through eddies and dangerous passages in the river. Not a living soul upon it was visible.
"Drat the luck!" exclaimed Hezekiah Smith, after stumbling along the shore for several minutes.
"Be the powers, but we'll boord the craft, and take possession!"
Hezekiah caught at the idea, and had already stepped into the water to carry it into execution, when Pat, with an exclamation of astonishment and alarm, caught him by the shoulder and drew him back.