With a mighty bound Natsatt leaped forward, with Dan following close at his heels. He reached the canoe, placed his precious burden, blankets and all in the bottom. The craft was at once rushed into the water.
"In, quick!" Dan commanded. "The devils are upon us!"
As the craft left the shore Natsatt seized a paddle and glanced around. Coming down the long passage-way he saw a score of Indians on the full run, shouting and yelling in the most terrifying manner.
"Drive her," roared Dan, "and get beyond the range of their guns. I wish my musket was loaded, I'd give them a parting salute, which one of them would feel."
Seizing the other paddle he assisted Natsatt, and soon the canoe was in the middle of the river, bearing downstream. The foremost of the Chilcats seeing their prey about to escape endeavoured to shoot them down in the canoe. In this they were foiled by the high walls which ran several feet out into the water, and by the time the muskets had been discharged the craft had dropped far enough away to be hidden from view. Had the Indians been outside the barricade they might have done considerable damage. But so anxious had they been to seize the white men, and raid the Post that all who were able had rushed within the fortification. When they realised their mistake and rushed outside the canoe was so far away that their shots would have been useless. They accordingly returned to the Post and ransacked the place, seizing eagerly upon everything the traders had left behind. They searched among the dead for the body of the Ayana chief, and were greatly disappointed when no trace of him could be found. They had hoped to find him only wounded and thus would have nursed him back to life that they might have the pleasure of submitting him to untold tortures later on.
In the meantime Dan and Natsatt had driven the canoe farther and farther away from the Post. They expected immediate pursuit, and often glanced anxiously back up the river to see if the Chilcats were coming. After a couple of hours' hard paddling and no sign of the enemy was seen they began to think that the Indians had given up the idea. There were many other things to occupy their attention. The chief needed attention, and Natsatt at length laid down his paddle and moved to Klitonda's side, while Dan continued paddling and kept the canoe in the middle of the stream. The chief was lying just where he had been placed. Putting his ear down close to his face Natsatt found that he was still breathing. His eyes were closed, and his lips were firmly pressed together. His long hair was tangled and moist. His head was thrown back, and upon his face was that defiant expression with which he had met his opponents. Natsatt laid his right hand upon the chief's shoulder, and gave him a slight shake.
"Klitonda, Klitonda," he called. "Wake up. You are safe. The Chilcats cannot trouble you any more. Klitonda, do you hear?"
He waited and watched for a few heart beats, and then the eyes of the chief slowly opened, and looked around in a vacant manner. His lips slowly moved, and Natsatt stooped down in an effort to comprehend what he was trying to say.
"Owindia—Klota—Chilcats—" came feebly from the dying chief.
"Owindia is here," Natsatt replied, "and the Chilcats cannot harm her."