Frank and Walter’s captors advanced toward the canoe in which Flick
O’Flynn sat, and great was the Irishman’s relief when he saw that they
did not penetrate his disguise.
For several moments the deaf and dumb Indian capered around the two
young men, hoping to give them a signal, but unfortunately for him, in
cutting these pranks, Walter gave him a kick in the stomach that fairly
doubled him on the beach.
Presently one of the savages motioned for his supposed deaf and dumb
comrade to take a seat in the stern of the canoe, which he accordingly
did with a jump.
The captives were then placed on the seat next to him, facing the same
way. Two of the savages with tomahawks seated themselves facing the
captives, while the other two took up the paddles.
“Holy Vargin!” muttered the Irishman to himself, as the canoe shot out,
“what if wees overtake the canoe with the rhale Mr. Lo into it? I niver
thought of that--wirra!”
And this they were quite likely to do, for they moved rapidly down
the stream; however, Flick O’Flynn was not long in making mental
preparations for the emergency that was sure to come, and which did
come sooner than he thought for.
In less than half an hour the canoe rounded an abrupt bend in the
stream, and but a few rods in advance of them Flick saw the Indian
that he had sent adrift sitting up in the canoe and gesticulating in
an excited manner with one hand, while with the other he was trying to
paddle the little craft up the stream. Quick as a flash Flick arose
to his feet and pointed in an excited manner toward the savage. The
two guards turned quickly around to see what the mute wished to call
their attention to; and at that instant the Irishman drew his shillalah
from under his coat, and, reaching forward over the captives’ heads,
dealt the savages a blow on the head that sent them heels over head
into the Medicine Bow. And then he uttered a yell, and springing over
the captives’ heads, served the two oarsmen a blow on the head that
caused them to release their hold on the oars and sink down quietly and
unconscious at his feet.
“Ay, now,” exclaimed the supposed mute Indian, turning to the wondering
captives; “it was a lick on the head wid me shillalah that made mees
known to the rhed bla’guards, and shill mees make meeself known to yees
_blind_ jackasses the same?”
“Flick, as I’m a confounded fool!” exclaimed Frank.
“And it’s a purty mess yees hev got into,” said the Irishman, cutting
their bonds.
In the mean time, the real mute Indian had succeeded in reaching the
shore and making his escape.
Flick now pitched the two unconscious oarsman out into the water, and
taking the paddle sent the craft flying down the stream.
In a few minutes an island densely covered with timber was reached and
the party landed and drew the canoe up on the beach.
The trio did not strike a fire for fear of attracting the attention of
the Indians, should any be lurking in the vicinity; and so they were
compelled to go without supper.
Seating themselves in the shadow of the undergrowth, where they
could not be seen, they entered into conversation, but this was soon
interrupted by the sound of paddles.
Rising to their feet and looking up-stream, they discovered a canoe
containing four men coming down toward the island.
They listened and discovered they were whites, but not feeling free
to make known their presence until they ascertained whether they were
friends or foes, or whether they were going to land on the island or
not, they took their weapons and climbed up a large tree that stood
in the center of the island and concealed themselves among the thick
boughs where they could command a view of the canoe and its occupants.
The canoe landed in a few moments, and then came an exclamation:
“Hullo, boys! here’s a canoe, and what if sum ’un is onter the island?”
“Heavens!” exclaimed another, in a tone of fear, “s’pose you go look
’round an’ see.”
“S’pose you go to the devil, Phil Graball!” replied the first speaker;
“do you think thet Eebenezer Frogfoot’s goin’ to be a fool and venter
out thar alone and git my carcass riddled with bullets? No, sir-ee, you
can’t come thet game.”
“Ye would if ye wer’n’t a coward,” returned Graball.
“Humph! I’ll bet all the gold in the--the hills thet you’re afeard
ter walk ’round this ’ere island onc’t,” said the important Ebenezer
Frogfoot.
“Ay, now,” whispered Flick O’Flynn, “they’re robbers as mees is a born
Irishman.”
“And cowards, too,” added Walter.
“Yes, but keep still; they may do or say something to our benefit,”
said Frank.
And so they listened and watched.
The matter of scouting the island was finally settled by all agreeing
to go in a body.
So the four brave men got themselves into line and began beating around
through the brush, but they found nothing.
“No one here, thank fortune,” said one of the robbers; “that canoe has
drifted there sometime ’r other.”
“Then let’s bring it ashore,” said another, whereupon they all returned
to the canoe.
One of their number now lit a lantern, which sent a red beam of light
across the island. Two of the men then took up a dark object from the
canoe, and following the one with the lantern, advanced toward the
interior of the island.
“Here’s the spot,” said the robber with the light, stopping directly
under the tree in which our friends were ensconced.
The two with the burden advanced and placed it on the ground at the
foot of the tree.
Our friends started with a shudder at what they saw.
_It was a beautiful, silver-mounted coffin!_