“I don’t like that,” muttered Shaddy in Rob’s hearing, and at the same moment Joe whispered,—
“They don’t mean to be friends, and we shall have to look out.”
As he spoke he stretched out his hand for his gun, and began to examine it carefully, a proceeding that was imitated by the others, but in a quiet unostentatious way, so as not to take the attention of the Indians.
A few moments’ counsel ended in a determination not to try again to make advances, by no means to halt for the midday rest, but to keep steadily on without paying any heed to the Indians, who followed slowly as the oars were plied, and at a respectful distance.
“How far does this smooth water go, Naylor?” asked Brazier.
“Six or seven miles, sir.”
“And is there a long rapid at the end?”
“Yes, sir, as long as any we have passed.”
“Where they could take us at a disadvantage?”
“Yes, sir,” said Shaddy, grimly indeed. “If it’s to come to a fight, we had better have it out here in the open, where we can shelter ourselves in the boat.”