"A bear or a wolf," replied Barnabas.
"Or a man," Godfrey suggested uneasily.
Barnabas did not answer. He thoughtfully watched the animal until it mounted the bank and disappeared, and after that an extra wrinkle or two remained on his furrowed brow. During the afternoon he scanned both shores intently, and furtively examined the muskets to see that all were loaded.
The sun faded in a haze of gold and purple, and the shroud of night fell on lonely mountain and river. There was no moon, and through the blackness the flat gurgled on its watery way. An hour after dark a misty object loomed out of mid-stream. It was an island, and as the upper point drew near, Cutbush gave the rudder a twist that sent the flat into the channel on the left.
"It's the proper course," he explained, "and the one that we boatmen take. T'other side is full of rocks and shallows."
"But there's a bit of rapids below," said McNicol, "if my ears don't deceive me."
"They're no account," replied Cutbush. "There's a clean passage through toward the shore side."
He swung the boat further to the left, and it glided silently along within fifty yards of the bank, and three times that distance from the island.
"I've got my bearin's exactly now," said Barnabas. "That's what they call Packer's Island acrost from us, an' a mile or so down yonder on the right is the settlement of Northumberland, where the North an' West Branches meet. We'll be on the main river in half an hour."
"I want to stop at all the forts on the way down," said Nathan, "because the soldiers may have had late reports from the army, and can tell me if my father—"