CHAPTER XIII
BLUE JACKET GIVES WARNING
Three days had now passed.
All this time the flatboat had made good progress down the river, which continually opened up new and most beautiful pictures to the eyes of the voyagers. It was very slow travelling, to be sure; but then the early pioneers had never ridden on a lightning express train, nor sat in an automobile that was flying along country roads at the rate of a mile a minute; so such tedious progress was not irksome to them.
One night only had they anchored out from the shore, when Blue Jacket and the Irish trapper did not like the idea of tying up to the trees on the bank, having discovered some signs of Indians about.
As yet there had been no attack upon the people on the flatboat, and perhaps a feeling of renewed confidence was beginning to steal into their hearts. But the men knew better than to allow such immunity from danger to render them a particle less cautious. And each evening they kept up the same programme that had been first instituted.
One man was to be on guard aboard the boat, constantly watching the shore for signs of anything moving. He had his orders to shoot, if an approaching figure, upon being challenged, failed to give the correct password. And then every one of the others knew just what his part of the defence was to be, so that they would leap to their stations as one man.
After supper on this night, when they were tied up again to the shore, Blue Jacket went away to scour the immediate vicinity, and keep on the alert for the first signs of an impending attack.
It was to be the very last night of the young Shawanee among them; for he had announced that, since they were now far away from the lodges of his people, he must on the morrow shake the hands of his white friends in farewell, and turn his face toward the rising sun.
The boys would be sorry. They had come to think most highly of Blue Jacket; and Bob predicted that, in time to come, the young brave would make a name for himself among his people. ([Note 9.])