ACROSS THE GORGE.
"Heavens, Larry, you have killed him!" was the horrified exclamation of
Wharton Edwards.
"Be easy now," coolly replied his companion, putting down the weapon and
resuming the paddle; "he isn't hurt."
"Didn't you aim at him?" asked his friend, who, looking back, saw no
signs of injury on the part of the Shawanoe.
"Not so loud," whispered Larry; "he might hear you."
The youth drove the canoe farther out into the lake, but all the time he
kept his head turned so as to see every movement of the Indian.
Larry had not aimed at him; nothing in the world would have induced him
to shoot the poor, demented creature; but he meant to give him a good
scare, and he succeeded.
Instead of throwing the stone in his hand he dropped it at his feet,
whirled about, and ran for the trees. As he did so he dodged from side
to side like a Digger Indian when trying to distract the aim of his
enemy.
"That's better than killing him," commented Wharton, with a sigh; "he
thinks you intended that shot for him, and he doesn't mean to give us a
second chance."
"But he is taking a second one himself. Look out!"
Wharton saw a shadowy something sailing through the air overhead. It
struck in the water several yards beyond the canoe with a "chung," but
had gone wide of the mark. From the fringe of shadow the Shawanoe had
hurled another missile, but he had thrown it with such vicious
fierceness that it missed the target altogether.
Before he could repeat the attempt with more care, Larry impelled the
boat beyond his reach, and that particular danger for the time was past.
"I wonder if he can throw across the lake?" muttered Larry; "keep a
sharp eye on him, for he may begin a bombardment bimeby that will lay
us out."
"We are surely too far off," replied Wharton, surveying the long space
over which they had passed.
Nevertheless, they kept a close watch for some demonstration, which,
however, did not take place.
The lake where the canoe now crossed was no more than a furlong in
width, and Larry veered as near to the beginning of the gorge as was
safe, for by so doing he effected considerable gain.
In his eagerness to accomplish this he narrowly missed a fatal blunder.
Ere he was aware, he found himself sweeping toward the gorge which had
caused them so much trouble.
He did not approach nearly so close as the Indian, but only by the most
strenuous exertions was he able to save himself. When they reached the
shore at last he was exhausted.
They were secure, however, and inexpressibly relieved to find
themselves, after all their work and danger, on the other side of the
current which had been so long an impassable barrier in their path. They
had come a long way to do this, and more than once they asked themselves
whether it was not a mistake. But for their conviction that an ambush
had been laid along the trail, thus compelling a detour, the attempt
never would have been made.
It now remained for them to follow the gorge down in the direction of
the falls until they were as near the path as prudent, and then strike
out for the block-house, returning to the trail at a point beyond where
they believed the Shawanoes were awaiting them.
But they were fatigued at the time they halted for supper, and they had
not gone far when they found themselves so weary and sleepy that it was
hard to drag one foot after another. The ground was rougher than they
supposed, and would have taxed the strength of stronger persons than
they. They were in need of rest and must have it.
"It can't lack much of daylight," said Wharton, halting where the rocks
were bare and they were near the rushing torrent, "and we may as well
wait until then."
"We haven't gone far," remarked Larry, removing his cap and running his
fingers through his hair, "and we know that we're on the right course.
Do ye mind, too, that we can travel a good many miles atween this time
and sunrise?"
"All right; do you say keep on?"
"Of course."
"Come on, then."
Wharton wheeled about to continue their journey when his friend
interposed:
"Hold on; I forgot that I am so tired. I can't walk half a dozen steps
more to save me."
Wharton laughed, though he had resolved to keep it up until he dropped
from exhaustion.
They were satisfied with any resting-place. The sultry night rendered
unnecessary any protection, and the rocks themselves were as
comfortable, almost, as a downy couch. The protuberances, when their
caps were laid upon them, afforded excellent pillows, and five minutes
after stretching themselves out both were sound asleep.
The spot, which had been selected with little thought, was on the fringe
of the wood, which approached to within twenty feet of the river. The
rocks were rough and uneven, but it was easy to find places that suited
their forms. They lay down just within the shadow thrown out by the
trees, where they could not be seen by any one unless he stumbled over
them.
But for their extreme fatigue they would have adopted the ordinary
precaution of kindling a fire, or taking turns in mounting guard while
the other slept. Each, however, knew that he was incapable of remaining
awake, and the attempt was not made.
True, there was danger abroad, but, except in the case of wild animals,
it was as great with as without the fire. It was likely, indeed, to be
greater.
This complete wearing out also of the bodies prevented either noticing
that the course of the moon would soon cause its light to fall upon
their faces, thus bringing them into plain view of any who might be
lurking in the neighborhood.
And it came about that less than an hour had gone by when the two were
discovered. The figure of an Indian appeared moving noiselessly along
the banks of the ravine, almost in their very footsteps. At every few
paces he paused and looked keenly about him, as if in quest of
something.
Suddenly the owner of the canoe, for it was he, halted. Could any one
have seen his face, he would have noticed the frightful expression of
exultation which passed over it, for he was searching for these two
youths and had found them.