We dashed on, the water hissing and bubbling and foaming round us, and had almost reached the bottom, when I felt the bow of the canoe strike something. The next instant I found myself struggling in the seething waters, and instinctively striking out for dear life. Looking down the stream, I caught a glance of the canoe being rapidly hurried downwards, with Mike clinging to it. The next moment, he and the canoe had disappeared.
I had been carried down some distance, when, on more perfectly recovering my senses, I discovered that I was happily near the side opposite to that on which I had seen the Indians. I scrambled up on the bank, therefore, hoping to find some place of concealment before they could discover me. I had not gone far, however, before I recollected that my footprints would certainly betray me. I therefore retraced my steps and threw myself backwards into the water; and as I looked up towards the bank, I clearly perceived the marks I had left.
The river in this place was narrow, but though the current ran strong it was smooth, and I felt sure that I could swim across it and hide myself among some thick bushes which I saw growing over the water. It was my only hope of saving myself, and I determined to run the risk; but no time was to be lost, as the Indians might look up the stream and discover me. I struck out boldly, and found that I could stem the current, though it certainly required all the strength I possessed. I looked down the stream every now and then, to ascertain whether the Indians were returning, which I thought they might do when they saw only one person clinging to the canoe; otherwise I kept my eye as steadily as I could on the bushes for which I was making. Of course, I might have crossed the stream much more easily by allowing myself to be carried down with the current, but then I should have landed much below the place where I hoped to find concealment. I could distinguish for some time, even amid the roar of the waters, the voices of the Indians as they shouted to each other; but they gradually became fainter and fainter, and this gave me encouragement, as it informed me that they were getting further off.
Even then I thought of poor Mike. What might be his fate, should he be captured by the Indians? His fiddle, and probably everything else in the canoe, would be lost, and he would have no means of softening their savage hearts. With his fiddle in his hand, I felt that he might succeed in saving his life. It may seem strange that such thoughts entered my mind at that time; but the truth is, I was less anxious about myself than I was about him.
I had got more than half-way across when I began to find my strength failing me. It seemed that I should never reach the shore; still, I struck out, straining every nerve. I was afraid at length that I should be obliged to allow myself to be carried down by the current, and be glad to cling to the first rock or bough I could reach. My eyes were growing dim, and I could scarcely see the bushes on which they had so long been fixed. Still I struggled on, determined if possible to succeed. Suddenly I felt myself caught by an eddy, and the next instant I was carried close under the bank. I was about to grasp one of the branches, when I recollected that the sharp eyes of the Indians would discover where my hand had crushed the leaves, so I resisted the temptation, turning myself on my back for a minute to rest; then I dived down, and came up again in the very middle of the bush.
I now without fear drew myself out of the water, and climbing up, discovered a thick trunk hollowed out by age, the larger portion of which had been broken off either by a storm or lightning, the boughs having sprung out of the remainder—forming, indeed, a natural pollard. No concealment could have been more perfect; for even an Indian’s eye would fail to penetrate through the bark. By slipping down I was concealed on all sides, while at the same time a slit in the trunk afforded me a “look-out” through the boughs in the direction of the river. Here, therefore, I considered that I was safe for the present. The difficulty would be to get away; although I might remain concealed as long as I should desire, hunger would at length compel me to leave my hiding-place in search of food. I remained crouched down, listening anxiously for any sounds which might indicate the whereabouts of the Indians. Mike, I felt sure, had he escaped drowning, would be captured by them; but I had hopes that Reuben and his companion, by being so much ahead, might escape altogether.
The ground was excessively rough; numerous high rocky ridges, and intervening spaces filled by trees and dense underwood, abounded.
The fact that the Indians had been so long shouting to each other convinced me that they had not up to that time captured the first canoe. As I heard no one approaching, I should not have been afraid of
leaving my hiding-place; but then I knew that my footsteps would betray me.