The night was even closer at hand than our friends suspected. In the
forest, where the withdrawal of the sun was almost simultaneous with
darkness, it came without much warning. The gloom was already settling
over the water, and Haverland instantly shot the canoe from under the
shrubbery out into the stream. There were rowlocks and oars for a
second person, and Graham took up a couple and joined his labors with
his friend, while Haldidge took the steering oar. As they passed boldly
into the channel, the canoe ahead was just disappearing around a bend
below.
“Come, this won’t do; we musn’t let them keep out of our sight,” said
Haverland, dipping his oars deep into the water.
A heavy darkness was fast settling over the river, and our friends
noted another thing. A thick, peculiar fog, or mist, such as is often
seen of summer nights, upon a sheet of water, was already beginning
to envelop the banks and river. This, as will be evident, while it
would allow the pursuers to approach the Indian canoe much closer than
otherwise, still gave the latter a much greater chance of eluding them.
Haldidge hardly knew whether to be pleased with this or not.
“It may help us in the beginning, boys, but we’ve got to hold on till
it’s fairly down on us. If the rascals catch a glimpse of us before,
they’ll give us the slip as sure as fate. Just lay on your oars a few
minutes. We can float down with the current.”
“I allow it’s the best plan, although I am much in favor of dashing and
ending the matter at once,” remarked Graham, nervously handling his
oars.
“And while I think of it,” pursued Haldidge, “I don’t see as it would
do any hurt to muffle the oars.”
Before starting, they had abundantly provided themselves with means
for this and, in a few moments a quantity of cloth was forced into
the rowlocks, so as to be able to give full sweep to the oars without
making enough noise to attract suspicion from the shore, unless an ear
was listening more intently than usual.
By this time, too, the thick mist mentioned, had enveloped the river in
an impenetrable cloud, and they shot boldly into it. The light vessel
flew as swiftly and noiselessly as a bird over the water. Haldidge
understood every turn and eddy in the stream, and guided the canoe with
unerring certainty around the sharp bends, and by the rocks whose black
heads now and then shot backward within a few feet of their side.
In this way a mile was passed when he raised his hand as a signal for
them to cease efforts for a moment.
“Listen!” he uttered.
All did so, and faintly, yet distinctly and distantly, they heard the
almost inaudible dip of oars, and the click of the rowlocks.
“Is that above or below?” asked Haverland, bending his head and
intently listening.
“I think we have _passed_ them _sure_ enough,” replied Graham.
The sound certainly appeared to come from above them, and all were
constrained to believe that, rowing as swiftly and powerfully as they
did, they must have swept by them in the darkness without suspecting
their proximity.
“Can it be possible?” questioned Haldidge, wonderingly and doubtingly.
But such was the character of the river-banks at this point, that all
had been deceived in listening to the sounds, and the Indians were
all the time leaving them far behind. It was not until they heard
unmistakably the sounds receding in the distance, that they became
conscious of the true state of matters. At that moment, as they were
dying out, they all heard them plainly enough far below.
“We might have known it,” said Haldidge in vexation. “You’ve got to lay
to it, to catch them now.”
“But is there not danger of running afoul of them?”
“Not if we are careful. I think they will run into shore soon, and if
so, it will be the eastern bank. I will hug that closely, and keep my
ears open.”
The two now bent to their oars with redoubled powers. They dipped the
ashen blades deeply, and pulled until they bent dangerously, while the
water parted in foam at its rushing prow, and spread away in a foamy
pyramid behind.
The effect of this was soon apparent. The rattle of the oars ahead
grew plainer and plainer at each stroke, and it was evident that they
were gaining finely. Haverland’s arm was thrilled with tenfold power,
as he felt that he was rushing to the rescue of his only darling
child, and he only wished he might have the chance to spring upon her
abductors and rend them limb from limb. Graham’s heart beat faster as
he reflected that, perhaps, in a few moments, he should be face to face
with her who had hovered about his pillow in all his visions for many a
night.
Haldidge sat perfectly cool and possessed. He had formed his plan, and
imparted it to the others; it was to pursue the canoe noiselessly until
they were almost upon it, when the instant they were near enough to
distinguish forms, they would fire upon the Indians, and dash ahead and
capture Ina at all hazards.
* * * * *
This Haldidge, who has been introduced to notice in this chapter,
was a middle-aged man, who ten years before had emigrated from the
settlements along the Hudson, with a company which had formed the
settlement from which he started, and where we saw Haverland and his
wife and sister safely domiciled. He was a married man, and his cabin
happened to be upon the outskirts of the village. He joined and led the
whites in several forays against the savages, when the latter became
too troublesome; and, in this way he at last became a prominent object
for the Indian’s hatred. His residence became known to them, and one
dark, stormy night a half-dozen made a descent upon it. By the merest
chance, Haldidge was in the village at that time, and thus escaped
their malignant revenge. Being disappointed of their principal prey,
they cowardly vented their hatred upon his defenseless wife and child.
When the father returned, he found them both tomahawked, side by side,
and weltering in each other’s blood. So silently had this onslaught
been made that not a neighbor suspected any thing wrong, and were
horror-struck to find that such deadly peril had been so near their
own door. Haldidge took a fearful vengeance upon the destroyers of his
happiness. He succeeded, a couple of years afterward, in discovering
them, and, before six months were over, shot them all! As may be
supposed, his natural aversion to the race, was intensified by this
tragical occurrence, and had become so distinguished, that his name was
as a terror to the savages in that section. This will account for his
readiness in accompanying Haverland upon his perilous expedition.
* * * * *
As was said, our friends were rapidly gaining upon the Indian canoe.
At the rate at which they were going, they would be up to them in the
course of a half hour. They were so close to the shore, as to see
the dark line of the shrubbery along the bank, and several times an
overhanging limb brushed over their heads. Suddenly Haldidge raised his
hand again. All ceased rowing and listened. To their consternation not
the slightest sound was heard. Graham leaned over, and placed his ear
almost to the water, but detected nothing but the soft ripple of the
stream against the roots and dipping branches along the shore.
“Can it be?” he asked, with a painful whisper, as he raised his head,
“that we have been heard?”
“I do not think so,” replied Haldidge, apparently in as much doubt as
the rest.
“Then they have run into shore, and departed.”
“I fear that has been done.”
“But we have kept so close to the shore, would we not have seen or
heard the boat?”
“Provided they had landed alone. They may have run in this very minute,
and may not be more than a few yards off.”
“If so, we must hear them yet, and it won’t do to slide down upon them
in the manner we are now going or we shall find ourselves in the same
fix we expected to get them in.”
“Very true, and a good suggestion,” remarked Haldidge; and as he did
so, he reached up and caught an overhanging limb, and held the canoe
still.
“Now, boys, if you’ve got ears----”
“Sh--! Look there!” interrupted Haverland in an excited whisper.
Each turned his head, and saw what appeared to be a common lighted
candle floating upon the surface of the stream. It was a small point of
light, which at intervals glowed with a fuller redness, and which for
the time completely confounded our friends. On it came as noiselessly
as death, gliding forward with such a smooth, regular motion as to show
that it was certainly borne by the current.
“What in the name of----”
“Stop!” cried Haldidge; “that’s the canoe we’re after! It’s the light
of one of their pipes we see. Are your guns ready?”
“Yes,” replied the two, just loud enough for him to hear.
“Make right toward it, then, and fire the instant you see your mark.
Now!”
At the same instant he released his hold upon the limb, and the two
threw all their force on their oars. The canoe bounded like a ball
directly ahead, and seemed about to cut the other in twain. A minute
after, the shadowy outlines of three forms could be dimly seen, and the
avenging rifles were already raised, when the beacon-light was suddenly
extinguished, and the Indian canoe vanished as if by magic.
“It’s one of their tricks!” excitedly exclaimed Haldidge. “Dash ahead!
Curse them; they can’t be far off.”
The two dropped their rifles, and again seized the oars, and Haldidge
sheered it abruptly up stream, for he fancied they had turned in that
direction. He bent his head forward, expecting each moment to see
the forms of their enemies loom up to view in the mist, but he was
mistaken; no savages greeted his anxious vision. He guided his boat in
every direction--across the stream--up and down, but all to no purpose.
They had surely lost their prey this time. The Indians had undoubtedly
heard the pursuers--had muffled their own oars, and so proceeded as
silently as their pursuers.
“Hold a minute!” commanded Haldidge.
As they rested, they listened deeply and intently.
“Do you hear any thing?” he asked, leaning breathlessly forward.
“There! listen again.”
They could distinguish the ripple of water, growing fainter and
fainter, each minute.
“They are below us again, and now for a trial of speed.”
The two needed no more incentives, and for a time the canoe skimmed
over the water with astonishing speed. The moon was now up, and there
were patches in the stream, where the wind had blown away the fog,
and being exposed to the light, were as clear as midday. Now and then
they crossed such spots, sometimes but a few feet wide, and at others,
several rods. At these times the shore on either hand were perfectly
outlined, and they glided over them with a sort of instinctive terror,
as they felt how easily an enemy might be concealed.
In crossing one of these, broader than usual, a glimpse of the Indian
canoe showed itself, just disappearing upon the opposite side. They
were not more than a hundred yards apart, and they bounded toward it
with great rapidity. The patches of light became more frequent, and
the fog was evidently disappearing. Quite a breeze had arisen, which
was fast sweeping it away. Haldidge kept close into the eastern shore,
feeling sure that their enemies would land upon this side.
Suddenly the whole mist lifted from the surface of the water in a
volume, and rolled off into the woods. The bright moon was reflected
a long distance, and the pursuers gazed searchingly about, fully
expecting to see their enemies not a dozen rods away. But they were
again doomed to disappointment. Not a ripple disturbed the waters,
except their own canoe. The moon was directly overhead, so that
there was not a shadow cast along the banks, sufficient to conceal
the slightest object. The Indians had evidently landed, and were far
distant in the forest.
“It is no use,” remarked Haverland, gloomily, “they are gone, and we
might as well be--too.”
“It is a sore disappointment,” added Graham.
“And as much so to me as to either of you,” said Haldidge. “I have an
old score against the infernal wretches that will take many years to
wipe out. I hoped to do something toward it to-night, but have been
prevented. There is no use of hoping more at this time; they have
eluded us, that is self-evident, and we must try some other means.
No doubt you are wearied of body as well as of mind, and don’t fancy
particularly this remaining out in the river here, a shot for any one
who might possess the will; so let us go into shore, have a rest, and
talk over things.” Dispiritedly and gloomily the two ran the canoe to
the bank and landed.