Then he thought of Dan, and as light dawned upon his mind he almost gave a shout of delight. He restrained himself, however, in time, and turned his attention to the camp fire. Only the woman to contend with now.
He was about to slip from his hiding place, rush down and seize the child, when he happened to glance out over the lake to the left. As he did so he stared with amazement, for coming swiftly onward was a flotilla of canoes, driven by strong, determined arms. Spectres they seemed, bearing down suddenly from the unknown. Grey rubbed his eyes to make sure that he beheld aright. But there was no mistake. It was a stern reality.
By this time the Indian woman had seen them, too, and had hurried to the shore, and was wildly waving her arms. It was his opportunity, and he must not delay.
But now there fell upon his ears another sound. It was the voice of a child crying out in its loneliness.
"Mamma, mamma," it called. "I wants 'ou, mamma."
Grey hesitated no longer. He sprang forward, bounded like a tiger down the slope, seized the lad in his arms, and speeded back to cover. Scarcely had he reached the shelter of the forest ere the wild shrieks of the Indian woman made the evening hideous. Well did Grey know its meaning, and he smiled grimly, as, pressing the child to his breast, he once again threaded the tangled maze of underbrush, and reached the place where the raft was floating. Here he placed his burden upon the ground, and listened attentively.
"My! this is getting hot!" he panted. "We'll have the whole tribe after us now. I hope to goodness Dan will show up soon."