“So did I,” exclaimed Robert. “I didn’t mean to be a baby just now and it won’t happen again. Here, Deerfoot, let me paddle.”
“No. Deerfoot paddle,” replied the Indian quietly.
His manner immediately changed toward Robert, however, as he saw a revival of spirit in the boy. It was never his custom openly to rebuke either of his young friends. He set an example and took it for granted that the brothers would follow it. He was immensely proud of his young pupils, for it was in this light that he regarded them, and stoical as he was he could not always hide his feelings.
Down the narrow stream they went about two miles. Here the channel became lost in a huge swamp, a place that had always been a mystery and an attraction to the two brothers. They had never explored the swamp to any extent, however, for they invariably lost their bearings when they entered it and experienced difficulty in finding their way out. The channel of Fox River was easily discerned and not hard to follow, but Deerfoot soon left the channel and bore off to his left.
The reeds and rushes grew high in the swamp. Great overhanging trees shut out the sun and made the place dark and gloomy. Here and there muskrat houses appeared and more than once these ratlike denizens of the marshes could be seen hastening to cover at the approach of the canoe. Everything was so still that it had a pronounced effect on the three men in the canoe, as they wound their way in and out along the narrow waterways.
Deerfoot seemed perfectly sure of his course and did not once hesitate as he skillfully maneuvered the frail craft through the swamp. In absolute silence they progressed, the hoarse croak of a heron disturbed by their approach being the only sound to break the stillness.
The narrow channel suddenly turned sharply to the right and a small lagoon appeared before the eyes of the three fugitives. In the center of the little lake was an island about a hundred feet square and heavily wooded.
“There place,” said Deerfoot calmly.
“Can we land there?” questioned Robert doubtfully. “It looks pretty swampy to me.”
“No swamp in middle,” replied the Indian.