The shiftless one waited until their last war whoop died, and then, sending forth once more his long, thrilling note of defiance, he burst again into his triumphal chant.
“Steady now with the paddles, boys,” he cried, “an’ we’ll ride the water ez ef we’d done nothin’ else all our lives! Oh, I love rivers, big rivers, speshully when they hev a strong current like this that takes your boat ’long an’ you don’t hev to do no work! Now it reaches up a thousand hands that grab our canoe an’ sail ’long with it! Don’t paddle any more, boys, but jest hold yourselves ready to do it, when needed! The river’s doin’ all the work, an’ it never gits tired! Look, now, how the current’s a-rushin’, an’ a-dancin’, an’ a-hummin’! Look at the white water ’roun’ us! Look at the water behind us, an’ hear the roarin’ before us! Thar, she rocks, but never min’ that! Wait till the water comes spillin’ in! Then it will be time to use the paddles!”
He burst once more into that irrepressible yell of defiance, and then he cried exultantly:
“They slow up! They’re gittin’ afeard! We’ve made the race too fast fur ’em! Come on, you warriors! Ain’t you ready to go whar we will? These falls are fine an’ we jest love to play with ’em! We are goin’ to sail down ’em, an’ then we’re goin’ to sail back up ’em ag’in! Don’t you hear all that roarin’? It’s the tumblin’ o’ the water, an’ it’s singin’ a song to you, tellin’ you to come!”
The shiftless one’s own tremendous song had a thrilling effect upon his comrades. Their spirits leaped with it. The rushing canoe was now dancing upon the surface of the river, but somehow they were not afraid. They were at that reach of the river where a great city was destined to grow upon the southern shore, and which was to be the scene, a year or two later, of other activities of theirs, but now both banks were in solid, black forest, and no human habitation had yet appeared.
The canoe was rocking dangerously and all five began to use the paddles now and then, as the white water foamed around them. It required the utmost quickness of eye and hand to keep afloat, and the flying spray soon wet them through and through. Yet the soul of Shif’less Sol was still undaunted. He sang his song of victory, and although most of the words were lost amid the crash and roar of the waters, their triumphant note rose above every other sound, and found an echo in the hearts of the others.
Henry, looking back, saw that the long canoes had turned and were making for the southern shore. Great as was the prize they sought, they would not dare the falls, and half the battle was won.
“They don’t follow!” he shouted at the top of his voice. “And now for the miracle that will keep us afloat!”
The canoe raced down the watery slope and the spray continued to drench them, though they had taken the precaution to cover up their rifles and ammunition. But their surpassing skill had its reward. The descent soon became more gradual, the torrents of white water sank, and then they slid forward in the rapids, still going at a great rate, but no longer in danger.
“An’ we’ve left the enemy behind!” sang the shiftless one, looking back at the white masses. “He thought he had us, but he hadn’t! He turned back at the steep slope, but we came on! Thar’s nothin’ like havin’ a fall between you an’ a lot o’ pursuin’ Injun canoes, is thar, Paul?”