A SINGULAR ESCAPE.
The shot from the treacherous Indian upon the shore was the first
intelligent warning Tim had that he was discovered by them. The kind
Providence who had so often turned aside the dangerous missile still
protected him, and when he so suddenly dropped to the bottom of his
canoe, it was with a bullet-hole through his coat but not through his
body.
"Another illigant compliment to mesilf that it would afford me great
pleasure to return, and if you'll only be kind enough to wait a few
moments, I'll do the same."
But ere he could bring his gun to bear, the wild shot from the island
drove the savages to cover, and raised the Irishman's finger that was
pressing the trigger.
We have already told how, when he undertook to use the paddle, he found
it too dangerous, and coming again behind the deer, he floated down the
current. This, after the severe labor he had undergone, was an agreeable
change, but he was not long in discovering it was dangerous. He was
drifting away from his friends, and the further he went the greater did
the danger become to both parties. He speedily discovered that the
Indians were following him, and the interposing body of the black-tailed
deer was a most effectual protection. More than his own bullets were
buried in it ere he had gone a half-mile down stream.
"If I entertained a small doubt that yez was killed, I couldn't howld it
with them bullets rattlin' in your hide, me owld friend."
The efforts of a child, if steadily persevered in, would move the Great
Eastern in calm water, and Tim was not long in making the discovery
that, if he could not use the paddle, he still was able to exert a
motive power upon the canoe by a very slight means.
Reaching his hand over the side, he began paddling the water, and soon
had the gratifying consciousness that he was moving across the river.
True, it was slow, but it was nevertheless certain and positive, and was
carrying him further away from his troublesome pursuers, and must
eventually bring him against the western shore.
But when the island disappeared from view, and he had barely crossed the
center of the stream, he begun to think that this species of locomotion
was rather tardy, and he partially came to the sitting position and
ventured to take his paddle in hand. A discharge from the shore warned
him of the danger he ran, and he was reluctantly forced to drop his head
again and resort to his tedious method of moving.
By this time the afternoon was well advanced, and it looked as though it
would be fully dark before Tim could regain the ground he had lost. Now
and then he peered over the top of the deer to see whether he could
possibly catch sight of his acquaintances, but they whisked from cover
to cover so dexterously that he had not the encouragement even to hope
for success, and so he did not fire.
But a new fear took possession of the fugitive. If they were Indians, it
was to be expected that they had canoes somewhere, and if they were
speedily found, he would as speedily be overhauled.
"In which case Tim O'Rooney will lose his daar, and be the same towken
lose himself, and the boys won't get their dinner."
He squinted at the sun, now low in the sky, and quickly asked himself:
"If a man doesn't git his dinner, and ates half-way atween noon and
midnight, is it his dinner or supper? But that is a mighty question, is
the same."
He evidently concluded it was too vast for him to decide, for he
speedily dismissed it and turned his attention to that which more nearly
concerned him. Still toiling with his hand, much in the same manner that
a child would dabble in the water, he kept up the tardy movement of the
canoe until he began to grow fearless again, and he took his paddle once
more.
Now, when it was almost too late, he found that he could use it without
danger to himself. By bending his body forward, the deer protected him
and he could labor with impunity.
"Tim O'Rooney, I fears yez are lacking in the iliments which go to make
up a mon of sense. Why didn't yez think of this when it would have done
yez more good?"
When he was yet within a few yards of shore, he looked back and was not
a little frightened to see that the savages had launched a canoe and
were coming across the river with the speed of the swallow.
"Whisht now! but that is onexpected," said he, as he redoubled his own
exertions. Observing that his pursuers were rapidly gaining, he suddenly
recalled an artifice that he had seen practiced during his experience in
the mines years before. Catching up his rifle, he aimed it at the
advancing Indians.
Quick as a flash they ducked their heads and held up the two paddles
they were using as a protection against the expected bullet. But it was
not Tim's purpose to fire. He knew better than to do that, for ere he
could have reloaded they would have been upon him.
The minute they stooped he lowered his gun and caught up his paddle and
used it furiously. In this he was imitated by the Indians, whose
superior skill sent their frail vessel forward with such velocity that
it looked as if they would reach the shore but a short distance behind
him.
Again he raised his gun, and as before they attempted to screen
themselves from danger, while the next impulse of his paddle sent his
canoe high up the bank, and he sprung out and plunged into the woods.
Tim O'Rooney had no thought of the particular manner in which he was to
effect his escape. His one desire was to get away from them. The
probabilities are that, beyond all doubt, he would have been speedily
overtaken and slain but for one of those singular occurrences which do
not happen to a man more than once in a life-time, and which seem to
show unmistakably that Providence often interferes directly in favor of
the innocent and distressed.
He had run perhaps a couple of hundred yards, or thereabouts, when a
peculiar whoop from his pursuers announced that they had landed and were
now coming speedily behind him. He knew that he had no chance in
running, and was looking about him for some place in which to take
shelter, when a furious growl startled him and he found himself within a
dozen feet from enormous grizzly bear. This quadruped seemed anxious for
a fight, for he came straight at the fugitive, who might certainly be
excused for being dazed at the combination of dangers by which he was
surrounded.
That of the grizzly bear was the greatest; for with mouth open and his
red tongue lolling out he came fiercely at him. His gait was awkward and
shambling, but he managed to get over the ground very rapidly. Indeed,
the danger was so imminent that Tim, seeing there was no choice, raised
his gun and fired at the monster.
The bullet struck him near the head, but it did not kill him, nor did it
cause him to fall, but it bewildered him, and he rose on his hind feet
and clawed the air as if the bullet was a splinter and he was seeking to
pluck it from his flesh.
This bewilderment was the means of Tim being saved. Before the animal
had entirely recovered, he had darted out of sight, and when the Indians
came up the bear was just in "fighting trim," and immediately made at
them. Consequently they were compelled to give over all thoughts of the
flying hunter and attend to their own personal safety. What the final
result was Tim never learned, and we cannot speak with certainty.