AN UNFAVORABLE OMEN.
Ned pressed the pole into the bottom of the river, which was so far
below that only a few feet of the stick remained above the surface, and
he was forced to lean over the side of the craft to secure any leverage.
Any one who has tried it knows that it is next to impossible to
accomplish much under similar circumstances, and the young scout was of
the opinion that he was not making any progress at all toward the other
shore.
"We are in the deepest part," said Jo, with a view of encouraging him.
"And it looks as if we were going to stay there," replied Ned, straining
and pushing at his work.
"This deep part must be very narrow, and you'll soon be over it."
"That's the trouble," said his friend, with a laugh, "I am over it, and
don't see that there is much prospect of my getting anywhere else."
Still he worked and toiled at the greatest possible disadvantage, the
swaying of the boat frequently causing it to baffle all his efforts to
move onward. Several times, when he braced his shoulders, the craft
would sag against the pole with such force as almost to wrench it from
his grasp.
"Keep heart," called out Jo. "I think you are gaining."
"In which way?"
"We're a few inches nearer the southern shore than we were--"
"When we started," interrupted Ned, showing a very modest estimate of
his own abilities in the way of managing the craft.
Jo rose and went to the side of his friend, hoping that he might be of
assistance, for he clearly needed something of the kind.
"Let me take hold," said he, "or we are stuck, as sure as you live."
"I don't see how you can be of any help to me," answered Ned, who would
have been glad enough to receive it, if there was any direction in which
it could be applied. "You notice the trouble is that it so deep just
here, and the current so strong, that it bothers a fellow amazingly.
Now, if you will get overboard and push the stern you will do some
good, but I don't see that you are going to amount to anything in any
other way."
"Then I rather calculate that I won't amount to anything at all," was
the sensible conclusion of the other, as he returned to his place beside
his sister and the Mohawk.
There was reason to believe that the labors of Ned Clinton were not
entirely in vain, even though they were not encouraging. The boat was
certainly progressing, and the height of the pole above the water showed
that the depth was less by a few inches than before.
It must continue to diminish, and as it did so, the boatman would gain,
in a corresponding degree, his control of the craft. A few minutes after
this the truth became apparent to Ned himself, and he toiled all the
harder, until he regained, in a great degree, his mastery over the scow.
"Whew!" he exclaimed, as he paused a moment to catch breath. "I feel
like giving a hurrah for me!"
"You deserve a great deal of credit," said Rosa, "I thought several
times you had undertaken something more than you could accomplish. But
you stuck to it bravely, and if it was only safe, I should like to hear
a cheer for you."
"Very well; we'll consider it given."
"If you wait much longer with that pole doing nothing," added Rosa,
looking down stream as she spoke, "I think we'll arrive opposite the
fort, where some of the Iroquois will be sure to see us."
Once more the pole was thrust against the bottom, and immediately the
craft responded to the impulse, and all felt high hopes of making the
other bank in a few minutes.
While the light talk was going on, the Mohawk was scanning the shore
they were approaching, for it was all-important that they should strike
it at some point where none of their enemies could see them. Several
times he hushed his companions when they were talking in too
unrestrained a manner, for the sound of anything can be heard a long
distance over the water on a still summer night, and there was danger of
being betrayed in that way. The party had advanced so far by this time,
that the outline of the bank was dimly discerned ahead of them. It was
nothing more than a heavy wall of shadow, showing where the trees came
down to the edge of the water, but it was the kind of shore they wanted
to see.
"Let me take a hand," said Jo, as he stepped up beside his friend. "You
must be pretty well tired out by this time."
"I can take the old scow to the land as well as not, but, as you haven't
had anything to do since we started, I'll let you try it awhile."
Accordingly, Jo pressed the pole against the hard bottom of the
Susquehanna, and the progress continued without interruption until some
half a dozen rods were passed, when operations were suddenly checked by
the Mohawk uttering his warning aspiration:
"'Sh!"
This was as effective as if he had called out in a loud voice that the
Iroquois were upon them. Jo paused on the instant, and like the rest
glanced at the Indian to learn what it meant. Up to that moment all,
with the exception of him who managed the pole, were seated on the
gunwale, but the Mohawk, at the instant of uttering the exclamation,
rose to his feet, and was seen to be looking toward the land which was
their destination. Since this placed his back toward his friends, they
could only gaze in the same direction in quest of the cause of his
alarm.
At first they saw nothing, but in a few seconds the explanation came in
the shape of a light, which resembled a torch carried in the hands of
some one who was walking along the edge of the water. As this light
showed itself near the spot at which they were aiming, it was high time
they halted. The whole party, gazing in the direction of the strange
illumination, made an interesting tableau while drifting down the river.
The torch--if such it was--continued visible but a few seconds, when it
vanished as if plunged into the water.
Here was another unexpected interference with their plans, and the old
feeling of doubt came to the heart of Rosa Minturn, when she recalled
the extraordinary delay that had attended their attempts to get to Fort
Wilkesbarre, and now when her hopes were high, and they were actually in
sight of the shore, this mysterious light had come to warn them off.
Lena-Wingo did not stand idle long when they were confronted by such
danger, but turning about, stepped hastily back to where Jo was
awaiting the word of command, and took the pole from him.
"Must go back--Iroquois heard us coming--watch for us."
More than one heart sank as these words were uttered, for all felt that
it was a bad omen thus to turn back, when they were so near the land
they were seeking. There was another fact which was equally apparent,
and which caused them no very pleasant reflection. They had very likely
betrayed themselves by their own indiscretion, in talking in tones that
reached the ears of those who were watching for them. No one was to
blame, therefore, but themselves for the unfortunate situation in which
they were placed.
Jo yielded the pole without a murmur, and the Mohawk applied it with a
power and skill that made the retrogression much faster than was the
progress in the other direction. When the deepest portion of the channel
was reached, Lena-Wingo used the implement with a great deal more
cleverness than Ned Clinton had displayed, and it was crossed in
considerably less time than before. Then, as the more shallow water
came, and the craft was quite manageable, the Mohawk stopped work, and
holding the pole motionless and motioning his friends not to speak or
move, he listened, they also using their eyes and ears to the best of
their ability.