"I think it not only possible, but probable," said Adam Colfax with a rising tone of joy in his voice. "They are near now, and that first head looks familiar to me. I devoutly hope that I'm not mistaken."
The leader's head, propelled by the powerful strokes of the arms below, came within a yard or two of the Independence, and some stray rays of the moon, falling upon it, brought it from dusk into light. It was the face of a young river god, strong features cut cleanly, a massive projecting chin, and long yellow hair from which the water flowed in streams.
The head was raised from the water, the hands grasped the edge of the boat, and the figure sprang lightly on board, standing perfectly erect for a moment, while the water ran from his fringed hunting shirt, his moccasins, the knife and tomahawk at his belt, and flowed away over the boards.
"Henry Ware alive!" exclaimed Adam Colfax, springing forward and seizing the hand which dripped water from the tip of every finger.
"An' don't furgit me," said Shif'less Sol, as he leaped aboard and stood beside Henry, a tiny cataract pouring from every seam of his clothing.
"Nor me," said Tom Ross briefly, taking his place with his comrades.
"An' I'm here, too," said Jim Hart, uprearing his thin six feet four.
"So am I," said Paul, as he drew himself over the rail of the Independence.
"All of you alive and well!" exclaimed Adam Colfax, departing for once from his New Hampshire calm. "All returned from the dead together! I feel as if an army had come to our relief!"
"We ain't been dead," said Shif'less Sol. "An' we ain't been havin' sech a hard time, either. It's true three o' us hev been troubled by Injun bullets, but Jim Hart thar spent his time inventin' a new way o' cookin' rabbits, which will keep him happy for the next five years."