“Now, Arch-ee,” said the Cree chief in a low voice, “paddle for your life and be a man!”
“I’ll be two men, if you like, Oké,” answered the boy, whose courage was of that type which experiences something almost like desperate glee in the presence of imminent danger.
The canoe, obedient to the double impulse and the power of the current, was soon out of hearing of the pursuers.
“O! if I only had a paddle I might help you,” said Little Bill eagerly.
“Yes, an’ bu’st your biler, or explode your lungs, or something o’ that sort,” said his brother. “No, no, Little Bill; you sit there like a lord or an admiral, an’ leave men like Oké an’ me to do all the dirty work.”
While he spoke thus flippantly it is but justice to say that Archie was never more anxiously in earnest in his life, and that he strained at his paddle with a degree of energy that made him, perhaps, more than equal to many an average man. So that the canoe forged well ahead of the pursuers and finally got to a part of the river where three islets divided it into several channels, rendering further pursuit in the dark useless if not impossible.
Their comrades, however, were not so fortunate. Left behind by the sudden spurt of his leader, Davidson and his companion exerted themselves to overtake him, but the canoes of the enemy, which were just too late to cut off the retreat of Okématan, were in time to intercept the second canoe. In this emergency Dan swerved aside, hoping to get to the bank before the Saulteaux could discover his exact whereabouts. His intentions were thwarted by the want of caution in his companion.
“Iss it to the land ye are going?” asked Fergus.
“Yes—it’s our only chance,” whispered Dan.
“It iss my opeenion—” murmured the Highlander.