"I hear someding," whispered Fritz suddenly, and the two boys dodged back into the marsh grasses at the mouth of the creek.
After hurriedly making themselves as inconspicuous as possible, they peered out through the grass to see what it was had alarmed them. The boys were by no means frightened, but neither of them wanted to fall into the hands of a larger party of the enemy after their recent escape.
"It's something going up the creek," said Dick. "Sounds to me like paddling!"
"Maype here is where we get our canoe yet," Fritz said, hopefully.
"Indians," whispered Dick, as a canoe rounded a bend above them. "Not on the war path either, for the squaws are with them."
"INDIANS", WHISPERED DICK.
"Can we speak mit them?" questioned Fritz, who was decidedly anxious to get into a canoe and stop this incessant walking, riding and running that had kept them so busy for so long.
"It will probably be the only chance we'll get to get across the bay," answered Dick. "I believe we may as well risk it."