“Might I not escape? Are there not several canoes on the island? Might I not get one, and go and give my father notice of what has happened?”
“Know how to paddle?” demanded June, glancing her eye furtively at her companion.
“Not so well as yourself, perhaps; but enough to get out of sight before morning.”
“What do then?—couldn't paddle six—ten—eight mile!”
“I do not know; I would do much to warn my father, and the excellent Pathfinder, and all the rest, of the danger they are in.”
“Like Pathfinder?”
“All like him who know him—you would like him, nay, love him, if you only knew his heart!”
“No like him at all. Too good rifle—too good eye—too much shoot Iroquois and June's people. Must get his scalp if can.”
“And I must save it if I can, June. In this respect, then, we are opposed to each other. I will go and find a canoe the instant they are all asleep, and quit the island.”
“No can—June won't let you. Call Arrowhead.”