"Right enough. Keep her going."
Little by little he conquered himself. He was very weak, but as they neared the flatboat he managed to wave his paddle. The crew of the boat were lined up with rifles, but as Audubon stood up, at some risk to the canoe, they recognized his figure and got out their sweeps. Five minutes later they were alongside, and Norton fainted.
CHAPTER VII
Sitting on a big tobacco hogshead and watching the Indiana shore, with Audubon standing gloomily at his side, Norton felt his bandaged head tenderly and considered what was to be done.
"I saved the canoe from going under," said Audubon, "then rescued the rifles. I could give you no help until I saw your head come up. By the way, this was in the canoe."
He held out a powder-horn—mottled, with a streak of red running through it. Norton stared down at it, then with a grim laugh reached into the coat which hung in the sun with his other clothes, and drew out the stopper Boone had found on the Beargrass Creek road that morning. The plug slipped deftly into place; the horn matched perfectly.
"Well, so much for an assassin," he said grimly. "Now that you've had your initial taste of the work our foemen do, have you lost taste for the enterprise?"
"Not unless the enterprise has lost taste for me," laughed Audubon, with a glance around. The crew of the flatboat were safe out of hearing. "I told our friends here that we had set fire to the canes ourselves, by accident——"
"Good. Am I badly hurt? Where are we?"