Once an eddy seized them. Despite all Bennett could do the canoe shot into this whirlpool, and they made several rapid revolutions before the man saw his way out, and thrust the canoe between two ragged jaws of rock, and so escaped!
On and on fled the boat, while Buffalo Bill urged his mount along the river path. He could barely keep up with it. Each moment he expected to see it overturned, and both passengers tumbled into the raging current.
At last the more quiet river below the rapids came into view. Here the stream widened and the current quickly became sluggish. In the midst of the stream was a wooded island, its sharp upper end, consisting of an outcropping ledge, dividing the river into two channels just at the foot of the white water.
The canoe, as it shot out of the smother of spray, chanced to take the channel nearest to the bank on which Cody urged his horse. This was an oversight on Bennett’s part, but he had been too anxious to get out of the rapids at all to attend to where the canoe finally went.
Cody saw his chance, and, although Chief was well winded now, he yelled with delight. He saw what appeared to be the finish of the race—and in his favor.
“I’ve got you now, Boyd Bennett!” he shouted.
The bandit at last turned his eyes upon him, and then glanced around. He saw Cody’s meaning. The canoe was drifting so near the scout that the latter could either shoot, or rope him. And the long island forbade his getting away.
But the villain was not yet to his last card. His mind was keenly alive to the situation, and he lost no points in the game.
“Not yet, Bill Cody—not yet!” he shrieked, and with a single thrust of his paddle, turned the canoe’s nose toward the island.
“Hold, or I fire!” cried the scout, raising his weapon and drawing bead upon the bandit.