DRIFTING AWAY.
The bullet of the treacherous Indian had indeed whizzed harmlessly by
the head of Tim O'Rooney and when he fell to the bottom of the canoe it
was for the purpose of preventing any more of their missiles passing too
near him.
The savages, hastily driven to shelter by the unexpected shot from the
island, did not by any means relinquish their designs upon the
unfortunate white man in the canoe. He who had taken the quick aim and
fired saw that his bullet missed, but he understood the disadvantage of
his enemy, and was confident that he would still fall into their hands.
As we have shown, when the Irishman was thus suddenly interrupted, he
was but a short distance from the shore. So abruptly compelled to
relinquish his paddle and simply shelter his person, the current carried
him quite rapidly down the stream.
Tim did not become sensible of his disadvantage until he had drifted
below the island, and then upon partly rising to use his paddle the
crack of a gun from the shore told him that he was watched by vigilant
eyes, and that _that_ occupation was vetoed most unmistakably.
Forced thus to act entirely on the defensive, he carefully drew out his
rifle and resting it on the body of his game waited his chance to avenge
himself upon the unrelenting savages. He could tell from the faint blue
smoke that curled upward where they were concealed, but could not catch
sight of them.
Had they shown themselves, the Irishman knew it was about impossible for
him to harm them at such a distance, while their dexterity in the use of
the gun made it too dangerous for him to expose himself to their fire.
He watched them until he had floated quite a way below, when he began to
hope that they had given up their designs upon him, and he might make
his way back to his friends upon the island in safety.
But when on the point of rising to a sitting position he saw them whisk
through the bushes he knew they were following him along the
shore--following him, too, with that skill and stealth which prevented
his getting a shot at them, and placing it totally out of his power to
prevent himself from being "commanded by their fire."
As may well be imagined, Howard and Elwood were deeply interested
spectators of these events. Now that they had revealed their presence
upon the island, and there was no further use in attempting to conceal
the fact, they were eager to render their companion all the assistance
possible.
But the nature of the occurrences made them helpless. Tim had drifted
such a distance down stream, and had consequently drawn his enemies so
far after him, that they had not the slightest chance of reaching them
with their rifles, if they chose to expose themselves. They could only
watch, therefore, and pray for their safety.
Floating slowly onward, onward, they observed that Tim's canoe gradually
swerved to the left until it disappeared around a curve in the river. It
crossed the center and was nearer the western than the eastern shore.
This seemed to show that, despite his unfavorable situation, he was able
to impart a motion to the boat, which, slight as it was, would
eventually bring him to the opposite side of the stream.
Nothing more was seen of the Indians, although the report of several
guns, heard within a half-hour of the disappearance of the canoe,
prevented their feeling too sanguine over the position of Tim O'Rooney.
"We can now see the blunder he committed," said Howard. "He did wrong in
going to the eastern bank when he could have secured his game as well
upon the other side."
"I think he will be able to get away, unless they have a canoe with
which to follow him."
"Even then he can take to the woods and hide himself until dark, and
then make his way back to us."
"I hope so, but fear he will be prevented or overtaken before he can
reach shelter."
"But think, Howard, he has a gun and plenty of ammunition, and there are
but three of them. I should say they would hesitate some time before
advancing upon him."
"But he is a poor shot, like ourselves."
"He could not miss them if they came very close to him."
"Yes; there seems to be a good chance, if they don't find more Indians
to unite with them in the hunt."
This was a contingency that had not occurred to Elwood, and he was
almost overwhelmed at its import until he came to reason upon it, when
the likelihood of such being the case dwindled away until it almost
vanished.
"We have seen no large bodies of savages, and I don't believe they care
enough about catching or slaying a single man to go to all that
trouble."
"Not so much trouble, perhaps, as you are apt to think. War is the
business of the American Indians, you know, as it is of all barbarous
people."
"But look at Ned Trimble and his friends. There are but three of them,
and I have no doubt that their security is in their strength--otherwise
they would not be so indifferent as to what is going on around them. You
remember they did not see us until we first spoke to them."
"So it appeared; but I have an idea that they knew of our presence
before Tim discovered them."
"They did not show it, at any rate."
"They looked surprised when we came up, but if we had been enemies
instead of friends I believe we would have been the surprised parties.
They have lived too long in the wilds of California to permit a party of
strangers to steal upon them unaware."
"But what is to become of us if Tim doesn't come back?"
"We shall have to put ourselves under the care of Shasta--that is, if he
gets well."
"Why do you call him _Shasta_? Where did you hear that name?"
"The only word I have heard him speak sounded like that, and I do not
know of any better name. Can you think of one?"
"No; that is good enough; let him be called Shasta, then. There may be a
greater Providence in our coming upon this island than we imagine."
"There is a Providence in everything that occurs, though it may be that
we are not always able to see it. Do you remember the copy we had so
often at school, 'Misfortunes are often blessings in disguise?'"
"Yes; but like the truths that were driven into our heads so often at
school, we fail to appreciate them until some occasion like this
impresses them upon our minds. But I declare, Howard, we are turning
philosophers."
"What better can we do, when there is nothing else to employ ourselves
about? We need all our philosophy at such a time."
"But we must not forget our patient, Shasta."
"True. He had gone almost out of my mind until you referred to him a
moment ago. Let us look at him."
The two had been stationed near the lower end of the island, and they
now walked back to where they had left the suffering stranger. What was
their surprise to see him standing on his feet, his blanket wrapped
around him, and his attitude and position such as to raise a strong
suspicion that he understood all that had taken place within the last
hour or two.