"The varmints are lying by, waiting for' the other canoe. Paddle straight at 'em."
The Indians at once turned the boat and paddled to meet their companions, who were fast approaching.
"Now," Peter exclaimed, "we've got 'em in a line—a steady aim this time."
The three rifles spoke out; one of the Indians fell into the boat and the paddle of another was struck from his grasp.
"Now," the scout shouted, "paddle away! We've got 'em all fairly behind us."
Day broke just as they were again abreast of the island. One canoe was following closely, two others were a mile and a half behind, while the one with which they had been engaged had made for the shore.
"What do you mean to do?" Harold asked Peter.
"I mean to run as close as I can round the end of the island, and then make for the place where they must have embarked on the mainland. They may have seen the signal fires there, but will not know what has been going on. So now row your best. We must leave the others as far behind as possible."
For the first time since they started the three paddlers exerted themselves to the utmost. They had little fear that there were any more canoes on the island, for, had there been, they would have joined in the chase. It was only necessary to keep so far from the end of the island as would take them out of reach of the fire. Several shots were discharged as they passed, but these fell short as the canoe shot along at its highest rate of speed, every stroke taking it further from its nearest pursuer.
At the end of an hour's paddling this canoe was a mile and a half behind. Its rowers had apparently somewhat abated their speed in order to allow the other two boats to draw up to them, for the result of the encounter between their comrades and the fugitives had not been of a nature to encourage them to undertake a single-handed contest with them.