"All right, and I'll be with you in a few minutes."
Half an hour later Pete's canoe, the old reliable, which the rangers had brought back to the settlement, was again headed up river. Dane sat astern and drove his paddle into the water with the force of a Titan. He had been greatly stirred at times in the past, but never such as now. The blood surged madly through his veins, and the muscles of his bared arms stood out like whips of steel. He thought of the cowardly attack upon the helpless girl, the one he loved better than life. Where was she now? Perhaps already she had become the victim of Seth Lupin. The idea was horrible, and his paddle bent as the glittering blade carved the water. But the base Lupin should not escape. He would track him, if necessary, to the farthest bounds. He would find him, and when he had found him . . .
The sun of the now shortened day dipped below the far-off western horizon. A chilly breeze drifted up with the tide. Gradually the trees along the shore became indistinct. The stars tumbled out one by one. Silence reigned on water and land. But still the canoe sped noiselessly onward. Not once had Dane spoken to the Indian; his mind was too much occupied with other things. The picture of a white head bowed with grief as he had last seen it at the settlement, rose before him. What agony of soul was that silent man now undergoing. He emitted a slight groan, which caused Pete to glance quickly around.
"Dane seek, eh?" he queried.
"Not sick, Pete; only mad. I'm in hell."
"A-ha-ha, me know. Bad, eh?"
Dane's only reply was a more vigorous stroke than ever, which caused the canoe to quiver as it leaped forward. He was too much excited as yet to form any definite line of action. He thought only of the Indian encampments along the river and the various tributaries. Surely at one of these he would find out something which would guide him in his search. There was no time to be lost. Winter was not far away, and the river would soon be frozen from bank to bank. Already the wild geese had gone South in great wedge-like battalions, and any day the wild nor'easter might sweep down, and with the blast of its cruel breath strike rivers, lakes, and babbling brooks into a numbing silence.
For days and nights they continued their search. From camp to camp they sped with feverish haste, but not a clue could they find. The Indians had heard nothing of the missing girl, and Dane's heart sank within him at each fresh disappointment. What was he to do? Where was he to go? These were the questions he asked himself over and over again. Both he and Pete were weary, for they had slept but little, and had only eaten what they could obtain at the various encampments. How much longer could they continue? Soon the river would be frozen, and then the search would have to be carried on by land. And all this time what untold hardships was Jean undergoing, providing she was still alive?
At length when hope was almost gone, an Indian passing up river gave him a glimmer of light. He had been at the mouth of the Washademoak the night the white girl had been carried off. A strange canoe had passed by swiftly in the darkness, and he had heard a slight moan of distress. This was all, but it aroused in Dane a new spirit of hope. There might yet be time to follow this clue, and the Washademoak was a likely place to hide the girl.
It was morning, and they were far up the river when this information was received. The setting sun found them resting upon the shore not far from the entrance to the Washademoak. They had just finished their frugal supper, and were about to continue on their way, when the white sails of the little schooner Polly hove in sight, bearing steadily up stream. Captain Leavitt was on deck, and catching sight of the two rangers, he hailed them. As the vessel approached, Dane and Pete launched their canoe, and awaited her coming. The wind was not strong, and when the Polly at last drew near, they could see the deck filled with men, women, and children. In another minute the canoe was alongside, and Captain Leavitt leaning over the starboard rail.