IN WHICH PHIL ROWS THE BARGE UP THE BIG FISH RIVER.
If there were any Indians between the Castle and Kit Cruncher's cabin, we were certainly between two fires, and it was necessary that something should be done very soon.
"What makes you think there are Indians below us, Kit?" I asked.
"I'll tell you, boy," replied the patriarchal hunter, as he turned a slice of bacon in the pan. "I've seen Injun tracks p'inted that way."
"Where did you see them?"
"Over on the Little Fish. It has rained hard sence I went up the river, and the tracks I see was new ones."
"Were they above or below the lower rapids?"
"Above, boy. I struck across the country above the swamp, and hit my brook near the spring where it starts. Two Injuns had come down, I know."
"Well, Kit, those were the two who crossed the Big Fish on a log—two of the four who went to the island this morning and captured Miss Gracewood. The other two came around by the river in the dugout, and camped near the lower rapids. In my opinion, they had agreed to meet there."
"Most like it is as you say, boy. I'm glad it's no wus. But 'tain't safe for the gal to stay hyer. There'll be a hund'ed Injuns down hyer to-morrow, mebbe as arly as daylight. I cal'late them two that come over this mornin' is doggin' round the Castle now."