The rifles cracked almost as one and two bullets ripped through the bottom of the canoe, plowing up splinters in their wake.
“We’ve sprung a leak,” called Sandy almost immediately. “Those shots have put the canoe out of commission!”
Dick glanced about at the bottom of the canoe. Sandy was right. The bullets had struck below the waterline and the river was gurgling in around the packs and blankets.
CHAPTER II
AT LITTLE MOOSE PORTAGE
Dick Kent thought swiftly. There was no time to lose. The canoe was filling fast. Already it was growing perceptibly heavier. Ahead he could see the canoe they had set adrift. It was a long chance, but it was the only thing to be done, aside from swimming to the other shore and abandoning all their packs and camp equipment.
“Sandy!”
“What?” panted his chum.
“We’ve got to switch our packs into that empty canoe.”
“Catch it first, I’ll say!” cried Sandy.
They redoubled their efforts on the paddles. The drifting canoe was spinning slowly in the stream. Waterlogged as they were, they yet were slowly gaining on the empty craft. Out of rifle range from the sand point, the bullets of their pursuers no longer endangered them as they skipped across the water yards short of their mark.