The fugitives gained the river bank, and crawling under the thick willows, presently stumbled on the dug-out lying in a fissure in the earthen bank. So far so good. However, they were not unmindful of the dug-out manned by four Crees somewhere out on the river; and they waited awhile listening.
They heard them coming up-stream, paddling at a furious rate. They passed close to the bank, not half a dozen yards from where Loseis and Conacher were crouching. Conacher gave them a minute, then started to slide the dug-out off the mud.
“They’ll see us!” whispered Loseis in alarm.
“Somebody must see us, or we can’t pull off the double suicide,” said Conacher grimly.
They launched the dug-out and climbed in. Since the paddlers in the other dug-out had their backs turned to them, they could have gained the other shore unseen; but Conacher headed diagonally up-stream, laying such a course that they must be at least heard by those gathered around the mouth of the creek. And they were heard. A chorus of cries was raised. Conacher then steered straight for the opposite shore. In a moment they heard the other dug-out splashing after them.
Immediately to the north of the high-cut bank, there was a smallish flat covered with grass, through the center of which a tiny stream wound its way to the river. It was the usual willow-bordered rivulet flowing quite deep between overhanging banks, which were held from caving in by the roots of the thickly springing willows. The branches of the willows interlaced overhead. This muskrat-haunted stream was an important factor in the plans of the fugitives; but they were not ready to use it yet.
Conacher landed alongside its mouth. The instant the nose of the dug-out touched, they were out. The other dug-out was already half way across the river. They raced through the grass alongside the willow-bordered stream, slipping out of their packs as they ran. A hundred yards or so from the river, Conacher took both packs and boring through the outer willows, tied the packs to branches overhanging the little stream.
Returning to Loseis, they doubled on their tracks, and ran for the steep grassy rise which culminated in the bold knoll where the two graves were. The Crees, having just landed, were stumbling through the grass at a loss. Presently the fugitives were seen, as they wished to be. With renewed cries to their friends across the river, the Crees set after them. Gault’s roaring voice was heard from the river.
“They told him that we were running up the hill,” whispered Loseis; “and he’s telling them to work around back, and head us off on top.”
“We may take our time then,” said Conacher, falling to a walk.