“An’ more will run along either bank hopin’ fur a shot,” said the shiftless one, “an’ so while we turn our canoe into a shootin’ star ag’in we’ll hev to remember to keep in the middle o’ the stream. A lot o’ the dark that helped us to git the canoe is fadin’ away, leavin’ us to make our race fur our lives mostly in the open.”
The great war whoop came again, filling the forest with its fierce echoes, and then followed silence, a silence which every one of the five knew would be broken later by the plash of paddles. The valley Indians had great canoes, sometimes carrying as many as twenty paddles, and when twenty strong backs were bent into one of them it could come at greater speed than any five in the world could command.
But this five, calm and ready to face any danger, put their rifles where they could reach them in an instant, and then their canoe shot down the stream.
CHAPTER V
THE PROTECTING RIVER
The Ohio was the great stream of the borderers. It was the artery that led into the vast, rich new lands of the west, upon its waters many of them came, and upon its current and along its banks were fought thrilling battles between white men and red. Many a race for life was made upon its bosom, but none was ever carried on with more courage and energy than the one now occurring.
They kept well to the middle of the stream, which was still of great width, a full mile across, where they would be safe from shots from either shore, until the river narrowed, and although they sent the canoe along very fast, they did not use their full strength, keeping a reserve for the greater emergency which was sure to come.
Meanwhile they worked like a machine. The arms of five rose together and five paddles made a single plash. In the returning moonlight the water took on a silver color, and it fell away in masses of shimmering bubbles from the paddle blades. Before them the river spread its vast width, at once a channel of escape and of danger. The forest yet rose on either bank, a solid mass of green, in which nothing stirred, and from which no sound came.