The hunters hid themselves behind the shrubs. Valentine was not mistaken: it was a raft loaded with Indian warriors coming up. So soon as the Apaches were only a few yards from the island, five shots were fired simultaneously, which spread death and disorder among them.
The Apaches believed they should surprise their enemies asleep, and were far from expecting so rough a reception. Seeing their plans foiled, and that the enemy were ready for action, there was a momentary hesitation; still, shame gained the victory over prudence, and they continued to advance.
This raft was the vanguard of some dozen others, still hidden in the fog, awaiting the result of the reconnoissance made by the first. If the hunters were awake, they had orders to return without attacking them, which they obeyed. The first raft had the same instructions, but it had either got into a current which urged it on, or, as was more probable, the Indians wished to avenge their comrades, and they consequently advanced.
This time the word of command was given by Valentine, and the Apaches landed without being disturbed. They all rushed forward brandishing their clubs, and uttering their war yell, but were received with clubbed rifles, felled or drowned, ere they had scarce time to walk a couple of paces on land.
"Now," Valentine said coldly, "we shall be quiet the whole night. I know the Indians, they will not recommence the attack. Don Pablo, be so good as to warn Doña Clara: Shaw and the Coras warrior will get the canoe ready, and, if you think proper, we will start at once."
Curumilla had already prepared to pull the canoe into a more suitable spot for embarking than the mass of tall grass and shrubs in which it was concealed, but, as he was about to leap into it, he fancied he saw that it was sensibly moving from the bank.
Curumilla, much surprised, stepped into the river, in order to discover the cause of this unusual movement. The canoe was moving further and further, and was already three or four yards from the bank. Completely liberated from the reeds, it was cutting the current at right angles, with a continuous and regular movement, which proved that it was obeying some secret and intelligent influence.
Curumilla, more and more surprised, but determined to know the truth, proceeded silently to the bow of the boat, and then all was explained. An end of rope, intended to tie up the canoe and prevent it from drifting, was hanging over; an Apache was holding this end between his teeth, and swimming vigorously in the direction of the camp, dragging the canoe with him.
"My brother is fatigued," Curumilla said, ironically; "he must let me in my turn direct the canoe."
"Ouchi!" the Indian exclaimed, in his alarm; and, letting loose the rope, he dived. Curumilla dived upon him. For some minutes the river was agitated by a submarine shock, and then the two men reappeared on the surface. Curumilla held the Apache tightly by the throat.