“No, no,” answered the Indian,—“not a bit more certain to do that. If, as you say, we have the bad luck to become their captives, we shall be killed all the same. Their old revenge will be strong enough for that; and if not their revenge, they have an appetite that will insure our destruction. You understand, patron?”
This conversation was carried on in a low tone, and only between Trevannion and the tapuyo.
“O Heaven!” groaned the ex-miner, turning his eyes upon his children. “It would be a fearful fate for—for all of us.”
“The more reason for doing all we can to avoid falling into their hands.”
“But what can we do? Nothing! If they discover our hiding-place before nightfall, then we shall surely be taken.”
“Admit that, master; but if they do not—”
“If they do not, you think there would be some hope of our getting away from them?”
“A good hope,—a good hope.”
“On the raft?”
“Better than that, patron.”