"And Mr. Dick?" asked the Professor.
"Nawthing was seen of him at all. He must be drowned by this time."
There was a little conference between Professor Bill and the hunter about moving Ande to Burgtown, but the old man strenuously opposed it, and Bill acquiesced in his plan of leaving him at the Loop until he should recover. The setting sun saw all of the expedition trotting homeward to Burgtown, where the events of the day were gone over again and again for the benefit of Peter Burke, tavern keeper. In the mind of that worthy they were tabulated and placed on the same shelf in his memory as the records of Reverend Burg.
CHAPTER XXVII
THE SECRET OF THE SNUFF-BOX
It was in the late fall and the forests and wildwood had adorned themselves with their autumnal dress. Hills, mountains and ravines were gorgeous with mantles of scarlet, of brown, and of gold, while amidst it all several hardy ranges of pine seemed to resist the onward sweep of the frost, and triumphant in their vernal-hued robes, seemed to fling their plumy tops this way and that in contempt of their conquered brethren who wore the livery of the frost tyrant. Here and there several forest giants, weaker than their brethren, were completely denuded of their garments and stood mournfully shivering, trembling, sighing, in the faint afternoon breezes. The rocks and boulders of the Loop, once covered with green creepers, now were bare and desolate, except where a creeper, its leaves smitten to blood red hue, sought to lend its warmth to its cold, rocky, affianced one. The cabin of Hunter Tom seemed to stand out more clearly in relief against the general background of leaves and hills. The door was ajar and the window partly open, but it had no occupant. In a little glade near the cabin, and on a pile of bear and deerskins, was the form of Ande Trembath, apparently in a gentle slumber. Near him, seated on a rude, wooden bench, wedged in between the bases of two chestnuts, were the forms of Hunter Tom and the pilot, Hugh Lark. Hugh had recovered from the severe injuries of the Shawnese battle and had returned to his home and his pursuit of rafting. The old hunter, his hoary hair falling like a veil o'er his ears and shoulders, was engaged in cleaning "Brown Bess," as he called his trusty rifle, but he was not so intent upon this as he was in listening to the conversation of the pilot. It was their first meeting after the notable events of the previous spring, and Hugh was relating his experience.
"I don't remember much of the things that happened after the first few moments that I was shot. I was intent on bringing the canoe closer to land, and was just reaching out for it when I heard a shot and then felt a sting alongside of the head, and then I remember falling and hearing the waters buzzing around my ears like ten thousand bees. Then I kenned naething for, it seemed to me, quite a time. Then there was a time of dim consciousness, and I knew I was floating on at a pretty good speed, but it seemed I didn't care where I went, until at last I came to my full senses by a heavy blow that I got on the arm. I had been dashed by the flood against one of the rocks below the Still Water. Then I realised where I was, and tried to make for land, but the strength of the flood, or my own weakness, made all my efforts useless. I swept past the cabin there and soon approached the place where the Little Lycamahoning empties into the Big, and there I made a strong effort to get ashore, and did succeed in getting away from the violence of the current, but in the meantime I was swept onward past Pilot Rock and I began to hear the roar of the rapids of the Rough Water. I knew I could never get through that stretch of water alive, and had given myself up for lost, when old Pegleg with his raft hove in sight. There ne'er was a more welcome sight. I shouted to them and they heard me, and, as I swept by, they flung me a rope that I managed to grasp, and they hauled me on board. I was so done out that I couldn't speak until they put me off at the tavern, some miles down."
"It was a marvellous escape, and ye ought to thank God for it," said the hunter.