Slowly they overhauled the empty canoe, and at last Dick reached out and grasped the prow, hauling it to the side of their own sinking craft. Dropping their paddles then, they straddled the two gunwales and with their legs held the canoes together while with all haste they transferred their dunnage. Working grimly and silently they had almost finished when the canoes began to whirl slowly in the current. Sandy lost his balance and toppled into the water, his hoarse shout of surprise muffled as the river closed over his head.
Sandy came up from the cold bath. Dick shouted encouragement, extending a paddle to his chum while he alone held the canoes together. In a moment, spluttering and shivering, Sandy crawled back into the loaded canoe.
The leaking canoe was rolling on its side when the last blanket was taken from it. The young men picked up their paddles and struck out with all speed. They feared their pursuers, since they no longer appeared on the sand point, had run back into the forest and were coming along the river bank into rifle range.
“B-r-r-r, that sure was no warm bath,” chattered Sandy.
“Keep paddling, and warm up,” Dick called over his shoulder. “We’ll go ashore and dry your clothes when we’re sure we’ve got away from them.”
No sooner were the words out of his mouth when a rifle shot sounded from the shore some distance behind them. A bullet whined over their heads and plunked into the river.
“There they go again!” cried Dick. “Let’s bear toward the other shore and see if we can’t get out of range.”
Crouching over their paddles they swerved to the right and gradually paddled out of range once more.
Until late in the afternoon the boys kept up a killing pace with the paddles. Sandy, warmed by the stiff exercise, would not permit Dick to go in shore on his account, and so they drew into the swift current above Little Moose Portage.
The canoe was beached on the shore opposite the one where the enemy had put in an appearance miles behind. It was an excellent camp site. They were only about three hundred yards above the rapids, whose swift current, filled with sharp stones, made it necessary to go on by land to a point where the river was less dangerous. They could hear the sound of the rushing water.