They paddled on and on, keeping as close into the beach as they could venture; Ben observing, it would not do to run the risk of touching a rock or sandbank either. The tide, on which they had not calculated, was against them, as was a light breeze, so that they were longer than they expected in reaching the bay where they had landed. It was then growing dusk, and as they looked towards the shore, they saw several figures running down. A musket-ball came whistling not far from their ears; on this Ben shouted pretty lustily. They paddled on as fast as they could to the boat; she lay, contrary to orders, close to the beach.
“Pretty fellows you are, to shoot at your friends,” exclaimed Ben.
“We took you for natives,” answered one of the men, “and thought it might be that you were coming to carry off the boat.”
“If you had been where you ought to have been—on board her—they would have found that a hard job,” replied Ben.
“We were only stretching our legs, Master Tarbox, while we looked out for the rest. What has become of them?” asked the man.
“You’ll have to stretch your arms now, mates,” said Ben; “and I’ll tell you all about that as we go along.”
The long-boat was quickly shoved off, and the canoe being fastened astern, Oliver took the helm, and the crew gave way with a will, glad enough to return to the ship. Ben then told them that they would have a much longer pull on the morrow, and as he hoped attain the object of their expedition. Such a trip, in spite of the hard work they would have to go through, not free from danger though it might be, was exactly to their tastes.
They reached the ship two hours after dark. The captain had been getting ready provisions and ammunition so that they might start at dawn of day. Virginia, surmising their intentions, crept out of the cabin, and was on the watch, intending to go also. Oliver had no little difficulty in persuading her to remain, and not till he told her that the great chief who commanded the big canoe would not allow her to go did she consent to remain. A light breeze blowing up the river, the long-boat, with the canoe astern, sped merrily on her voyage. Oliver had taken care to obtain from his sister, as far as he could understand her language, an exact description of the channel by which the rapids might be avoided. With a strong current against them, heavy also as the boat was, they made much slower progress during the second part. They were still some way from the rapids when night overtook them. Oliver and Ben agreed that it would be impossible to attempt the channel unless in broad daylight; they therefore secured their boat to the bank under a wide-spreading tree.
Oliver, young as he was, knew the importance of being on their guard against surprise. Accordingly he and Ben searched round to ascertain whether any Indians were lurking in the neighbourhood; he also stationed a sentry on shore with orders to keep his ears open, that he might give timely notice of the approach of a foe. The night passed off, however, without interruption.
“Now, lads, we must get up these rapids before the hot sun comes down to make the toil harder to bear,” cried Ben, rousing the men up. “For the next three or four miles the water is deep and free from rocks, as I noted when we came down, and we may get along it in the twilight.”