The bateau was approaching a clump of trees which grew on the bank of the river, when the crack of a rifle was heard, and a bullet whizzed over the water. Rattleshag started, sprang to his feet, and grasped the tiller with his left hand, while the blood trinkled down the ends of his fingers from a wound in his right arm. He glanced hastily around him, and then, putting the helm up, ran the boat alongside the shore opposite that from which the shot had come. The bateau grounded in the shallow water, and her grating upon the gravel roused Ethan from his slumber.
"The Injins is firin' on us," said Rattleshag, coolly, as he took up his long rifle.
"Whar be they?" demanded Ethan, seizing his weapons.
"Over thar," replied the trapper, pointing to the clump of trees.
The first shot was now followed by a second, which fortunately hit none of the party. By this time Fanny was awake; but Ethan peremptorily bade her lie still, so that the hostile Indians could not see her. Near the point where the boat had grounded there was a group of trees, which promised to afford the voyagers a partial shelter from the bullets of the enemy, and Rattleshag thought they had better take a position there.
"Now run for it," said Ethan to Fanny, as he gave her the revolver.
"I am not afraid," she replied, as she took the pistol and ran to the covert of the trees.
Ethan and the trapper followed her; but the moment they showed themselves, the report of several rifles was heard, followed by the whistling of the bullets through the air, though the distance was so great that the shots were harmless.
"Now, we'll give 'em some," said Ethan.
"'Tain't no use," answered Rattleshag, seating himself on the ground behind one of the trees. "Don't waste your lead for nothin'. You can't hit 'em."