“Why can’t we paddle the canoe up a ways. If we walk we may step on a rattler, or meet other dreadful things,” ventured Jo.
“All right, then. We’ll canoe upstream a ways. If it doesn’t look healthy yonder, we’ll come back. But should we find a trail we may as well follow it to the bluff,” returned Julie.
“Who’d make a trail in this wilderness!” scorned Joan.
“Don’t you suppose others have been in this beautiful spot? Others have seen that bluff and climbed it, too.”
So the scouts paddled the canoe upstream as far as it seemed advisable, and that is how they missed hearing the Indians, when they crossed the creek and called for the lost ones. Then the hunters paddled on downstream, searching ahead for a canoe that might be going straight for the great falls John knew to be a mile further down.
John and Omney were in the leading canoe, while the Captain and Tally were in the second canoe of the rescuing party. When no sign of the scouts was seen at the creek, John called back to Tally.
“Omney and me go on, you take lady to shore and wait on creek for me.”
Tally did not tell Mrs. Vernon that a dangerous waterfall was downstream, but he knew that was where John was going to hunt, so he landed his passenger on the far side of the creek, where they sat and waited for news. No one dreamed that the two girls would paddle up the creek and thus miss a chance of being helped. Nor did Tally find the ashes of the little campfire Julie had made to cook the fish and to dry themselves.
“I knew there would be a fine trail along here, somewhere, Jo!” exclaimed Julie, driving the canoe inshore and pointing exultantly at a distinct trail that ran up from the water’s edge.
“Oh, joy! It runs straight for the bluff, too!” cried Joan.