Although very early in the morning the moon made the whole land almost as bright as day. The hastily prepared breakfast was soon eaten, the small fire extinguished, and preparations made for a speedy departure.
Madeline and Donnie were standing on the bank near where the canoe was floating. The Indian woman stood by the bow with her hand upon the moosehide thong, while the men conversed together for a few minutes several yards away. Presently they came close to the canoe and began to talk with the woman. What they said Madeline could not tell, but they seemed to be disputing over some question. Ere long one beckoned to the white woman, and pointed to the canoe. With her hand firmly grasping the child's Madeline slipped down the bank and stood close to the craft.
"Git in," commanded Nadu, as she hesitated a moment, "me hand in bah-bee."
Had she at that moment glanced at the Indian woman's malignant, triumphant face she would have shrunk back in terror. But her eyes were upon the rocking canoe, and carefully she stepped over the side, and was about to turn around to receive Donnie, when she felt the craft shoot swiftly out from the shore. The sudden motion caused her to sink upon her knees with a cry of fright. Quickly she turned her eyes to the shore, and there standing close to the water was Donnie with his little arms stretched out appealingly toward her, while his pathetic cry urging her to return smote upon her ears. Nadu was close by his side, one hand fiercely clutching the child's arm, with her eyes full fixed upon the departing canoe. The men were wildly gesticulating, and talking rapidly to her in their own tongue. She heeded them not, but stood like a statue staring out over the swiftly flowing water.
Then the truth flashed across Madeline's mind with a horrible stabbing intensity. It was the Indian woman's devilish plot to get rid of her, to send her to a speedy death into the swirling rapids below. Already their roar sounded in her ears like the knell of doom. Swifter flowed the stream, and the canoe trembled convulsively in its onward rush. Madeline glanced about for a paddle. She would make a struggle for life; she would die fighting. But alas, even that final hope vanished, for the paddles had been carefully removed, by whose hand she could easily guess. But what avail would be a pair of frail arms against that sinuous overmastering current? It was a monster, cruel and relentless, sweeping her onward into the very jaws of death. What earthly hand could break its grip, or what human voice could bid it hold back, and it would obey? Only one Hand could reach out, but there was no sign; only one Voice could give the all-powerful command, and It was silent.
Nearer now were those white foaming waters. Their angry snarl as they dashed and broke over some hidden rock sounded louder and louder. Madeline crouched in the bottom of the canoe, her eyes fascinated by that gleaming, grinning line ahead. She felt the craft quiver, dip, and then with a bound it plunged into that flume of destruction. Instantly Hell opened its horrid jaws to engulf her. She heard the jeering, maddening roar of demons. She felt the white froth spuming her body, and beheld ghostly, merciless claws reaching out to grip and drag her down to their horrid abode. Trees, rocks and sky were blotted out as the craft tore and staggered through that cloud of foam. The canoe was rapidly filling now, and the water was pouring over Madeline's body. It was blinding and deafening her. She rose to her knees; she staggered to her feet; she tried to stand. Her brain reeled. She felt she was going mad. Suddenly the mist cleared. She saw the blue sky above, and lifting up her hands she gave one wild, imploring cry for help. And even as she cried the canoe rushed with a sickening crash upon the edge of a concealed, jagged boulder, hurling Madeline like a rocket, out into the midst of that hissing, seething death.
CHAPTER XX OUT OF THE DEPTHS
When Norman Grey flung himself upon the ground at the foot of the rapids he believed that he would be asleep in a few minutes. In this, however, he was mistaken. His body was tired enough, but his brain was too active. The events of the past night were too vivid to allow him the rest he needed. And ever before his mind rose the vision of Madeline. Where was she, and what was happening to her? Was she calling for him? he wondered, or had she given him up, banished him from her mind? While she was near him at Hishu he was content to wait, to find out the truth gradually. But now it was different. She was alone in the wilderness, needing his assistance. Thinking thus he at length passed into a restless slumber. How long it lasted he could not tell, but he awoke with a start, and looked wildly around. Buckskin Dan was sleeping calmly by his side. Grey laid a heavy hand upon his shoulder, and shook him with impatience.