"Well, go on, but be careful."
The great convenience and advantage the canoe would be to the whites, decided Waring to let the Irishman make an effort to gain possession of it.
Having warned him of the danger he ran, he trusted he had sense enough to use all caution possible in the case. Nevertheless, it was with some misgivings that he saw him glide away and disappear in the darkness.
The flash of lightning which had revealed the solitary Indian to the Irishman, had brought his appearance and situation so vividly to his sight, that he could constantly see him, and felt as much assurance in moving toward him as if it were broad daylight.
Step by step he approached, literally feeling every inch of the way, for a single misstep would prove fatal. The snapping of a twig, a slip of his foot in the water, and the vigilant Indian would be on his guard.
Closer and closer approached the Irishman, until he had gained the proper point. Then straightening himself up, he drew back his ponderous fist, and concentrating all his strength, gave him a blow that sent him heels over head out into the water.
"That's what I call a gentle hint fur yees to l'ave."
A few moments later, the party were in the boat, and gliding rapidly with the current.
After floating a few moments in silence, Waring said—
"You and Hezekiah never knew each other until a few days since, I believe."