THE LIVE CANOE
Robert was fully aware that their peril was not yet over--the Indians,
too, might have canoes upon the lake--but he considered that the bulk
of it had passed. So his heart was light, and, as they shot out toward
the middle of Andiatarocte, he talked of the pursuit and the manner in
which he had escaped it.
"I was led the right way by a bird, one that sang," he said. "Your
Manitou, Tayoga, sent that bird to save me."
"You don't really believe it came for that special purpose?" asked the
hunter.
"Why not?" interrupted the Onondaga. "We do know that miracles are
done often. My nation and all the nations of the Hodenosaunee have
long known it. If Manitou wishes to stretch out his hand and snatch
Dagaeoga from his foes it is not for us to ask his reason why."
Willet was silent. He would not say anything to disturb the belief of
Tayoga, he was never one to attack anybody's religion, besides he was
not sure that he did not believe, himself.
"We know too," continued Tayoga devoutly, "that Tododaho, the mighty
Onondaga chief who went away to his star more than four hundred years
ago, and who sits there watching over the Hodenosaunee has intervened
more than once in our behalf. He is an arm of Manitou and acts for
him."
He looked up. The sky was hidden by the thick darkness. No ray of
silver or gray showed anywhere, but the Onondaga knew where lay the
star upon which sat his patron saint with the wise snakes, coil on
coil, in his hair. He felt that through the banks of mist and vapor
Tododaho was watching over him, and, as long as he tried to live the
right way taught to him by his fathers, the great Onondaga chieftain
would lead him through all perils, even as the bird in brilliant blue
plumage had shown Robert the path from the pursuit of Tandakora. The
sublime faith of Tayoga never wavered for an instant.
The wind rose a little, a heavy swell stirred the lake and their light
craft swayed with vigor, but the two youths were expert canoemen, none
better in all the wilderness, and it shipped no water. The hunter,
sitting with his hands on his rifle, did not stir, nor did he speak
for a long time. Willet, at that moment, shared the faith of his two
younger comrades. He was grateful too because once more they had
found Robert, for whom he had all the affection of a father. The three
reunited were far stronger than the three scattered, and he did not
believe that any force on the lakes or in the mountains could trap
them. But his questing eyes watched the vast oblong of the lake,
looking continually for a sign, whether that of friend or foe.
"What did you find, Robert?" he asked at last.
"Nothing but the band of Tandakora," replied the lad, with a light
laugh. "I took my way squarely into trouble, and then I had hard work
taking it out again. I don't know what would have happened to me, if
you two hadn't come in the canoe."
"It seems," said the Onondaga, in his whimsical precise manner, "that
a large part of our lives, Great Bear, is spent in rescuing Dagaeoga.
Do you think when we go into the Great Beyond and arrive at the feet
of Manitou, and he asks us what we have done with our time on earth,
he will put it to our credit when we reply that we consumed at least
ten years saving Dagaeoga from his enemies?"
"Yes, Tayoga, we'll get white marks for it, because Robert has
also saved us, and there is no nobler work than saving one's
fellow creatures. Manitou knows also that it is hard to live in the
wilderness and a man must spend a lot of his time escaping death. Look
to the east, Tayoga, lad, and tell me if you think that's a point of
light on the mountain over there."
The Onondaga studied intently the dark wall of the east, and presently
his eyes picked out a dot against its background, infinitesimal like
the light of a firefly, but not to be ignored by expert woodsmen.
"Yes, Great Bear," he replied, "I see it is not larger than the
littlest star, but it moves from side to side, and I think it is a
signal."
"So do I, lad. The lake is narrow here, and the answer, if there be
any, will come from the west shore. Now we'll look, all together.
Three pairs of eyes are better than one."
The two lads ceased paddling, holding the canoe steady, with
an occasional stroke, and began to search the western cliffs in
methodical fashion, letting the eye travel from the farthest point in
the north gradually toward the south, and neglecting no place in the
dark expanse.
"There it is!" exclaimed Robert. "Almost opposite us! I believe it's
in the very cliff at the point of which I lay!"
"See it, winking and blinking away."
"Yes, that's it," said Robert. "Now I wonder what those two lights are
saying to each other across Lake George?"
"It might be worth one's while to know, for they're surely signaling.
It may be about us, or it may be about the army in the south."
"I didn't find anything but trouble," said Robert. "Now what did you
and Tayoga find?"
"Plenty traces of both white men and red," replied the hunter. "The
forests were full of French and Indians. I think St. Luc with a
powerful force is near the north end of Lake George, and the Marquis
de Montcalm will soon be at Ticonderoga to meet us."
"But we'll sweep him away when our great army comes up from New York."
"So we should, lad, but the Marquis is an able general, wily and
brave. He showed his quality at Fort William Henry and we mustn't
underrate him, though I am afraid that's what we'll do; besides the
forest fights for the defense."
"It's not like you to be despondent, Dave," said Robert.
"I'm not, lad. I've just a feeling that we should be mighty cautious.
Some think the Marquis won't stand when our big army comes, but I
do, and I look for a great battle on the shores of either George or
Champlain."
"And we'll win it," said Robert in sanguine tones.
"That rests on the knees of the gods," said Willet thoughtfully. "But
we've got to deal with one thing at a time. It's our business now to
escape from the people who are making those lights wink at each other,
or the battle wherever it's fought or whoever wins won't include us
because we'll be off on another star, maybe sitting at the feet of
Tayoga's Tododaho."
"There's another light on the west shore toward the south," said the
Onondaga.
"And a fourth on the eastern cliff also toward the south," added
Robert. "All four of them are winking now. It seems to be a general
conversation."
"And I wish we could understand their language," said the hunter
earnestly. "I'm thinking, however, that they're talking about us. They
must have found out in some manner that we're on the lake, and they
want to take us."
"Then," said Robert, "it's time for Manitou to send a heavy mist that
we may escape in it."
"Manitou can work miracles for those whom he favors," said Tayoga,
"and now and then he sends them, but oftenest he withholds his hand,
lest we become spoiled and rely upon him when we should rely upon
ourselves."
"You never spoke a truer word, Tayoga," said the hunter. "It's the
same as saying that heaven helps those who help themselves, and we've
got to do a lot of work for ourselves this night. I think the Indian
canoes are already on Andiatarocte looking for us."
Robert would have felt a chill had it not been for the presence of his
comrades. The danger was unknown, mysterious, it might come from any
point, and, while the foe prepared, they must wait until he disclosed
himself. Waiting was the hardest thing to do.
"I think we'd better stay just where we are for a while," said the
hunter. "It would be foolish to use our strength, until we know what
we are using it for. It's certain that Manitou intends to let us fend
for ourselves because the night is lightening, which is a hard thing
for fugitives."
The clouds floated away toward the north, a star came out, then
another, and then a cluster, the lofty shores on either side rose up
clear and distinct, no longer vague black walls, the surface of the
water turned to gray, but it was still swept by a heavy swell, in
which the canoe rocked. Willet finally suggested that they pull to
a small island lying on their right, and anchor in the heavy foliage
overhanging the water.
"If it grows much lighter they'll be able to see us from the cliffs,"
he said, "and for us now situated as we are the most important of all
things is to hide."
It was a tiny island, not more than a quarter of an acre in size, but
it was covered with heavy forest, and they found refuge among the long
boughs that touched the water, where they rested in silence, while
more stars came out, throwing a silver radiance over the lake. The
three were silent and Robert watched the western light that lay
farthest south. It seemed to be about two miles away, and, as he
looked he saw it grow, until he became convinced that it was no longer
a light, but a fire.
"What is the meaning of it?" he asked, calling the attention of
Willet.
The hunter looked for a while before replying. The fire still grew
and soon a light on the eastern shore began to turn into a fire,
increasing in the same manner.
"I take it that they intend to illuminate the lake, at least this
portion of it," said Willet. "They'll have gigantic bonfires casting
their light far over the water, and they think that we won't be able
to hide then."
"Which proves that they are in great force on both shores," said
Tayoga.
"How does it prove it?" asked Robert.
The Onondaga laughed softly.
"O Dagaeoga," he said, "you speak before you think. You are always
thinking before you speak, but perhaps it is not your fault. Manitou
gave you a tongue of gold, and it becomes a man to use that which he
can use best. It is very simple. To drag up the fallen wood for such
big fires takes many men. Nor would all of them be employed for such
work. While some of them feed the flames others are seeking us. We can
look for their canoes soon."
"Their plan isn't a bad one for what they want to do," said the
hunter. "A master mind must be directing them. I am confirmed in my
opinion that St. Luc is there."
"I've been sure of it all the time," said Robert; "it seems that fate
intends us to be continually matching our wits against his."
"It's a fact, and it's strange how it's come about," said the hunter
thoughtfully.
Robert looked at him, hoping he would say more, but he did not
continue the subject. Instead he said:
"That they know what they're doing is shown by the fact that we must
move. All the area of the lake about us will be lighted up soon."
The two bonfires were now lofty, blazing pyramids, and a third farther
north began also to send its flames toward the sky.
The surface of the lake glowed with red light which crept steadily
toward the little island, in the shadow of which the three scouts lay.
It became apparent that they had no time to waste, if they intended to
avoid being trapped.
"Push out," said Willet, and, with strong sweeps of the paddle, Robert
and Tayoga sent the canoe from the shelter of the boughs. But they
still kept close to the island and then made for another about a
hundred yards south. The glow had not yet come near enough to disclose
them, while they were in the open water, but Robert felt intense
relief when they drew again into the shelter of trees.
The bonfire on the western shore was the largest, and, despite the
distance, he saw passing before the flames tiny black figures which he
knew to be warriors or French, if any white men were there. They
were still feeding the fire and the pyramid of light rose to an
extraordinary height, but Robert knew the peril was elsewhere. It
would come on the surface of the lake and he shifted his gaze to the
gray waters, searching everywhere for Indian canoes. He believed that
they would appear first in the north and he scoured the horizon there
from side to side, trying to detect the first black dot when it should
show over the lake.
The waters where his eyes searched were wholly in darkness, an
unbroken black line of the sky meeting a heaving surface. He looked
back and forth over the whole extent, a half dozen times, and found
nothing to break the continuity. Hope that the warriors of Tandakora
were not coming sprang up in his breast, but he put it down again.
Although imagination was so strong in him he was nevertheless, in
moments of peril, a realist. Hard experience had taught him long since
that when his life was in danger he must face facts.
"There's another island about a half mile away," he said to Willet.
"Don't you think we'd better make for it now?"
"In a minute or two, lad, if nothing happens," replied the hunter.
"I'd like to see what's coming here, if anything at all comes."
Robert turned his gaze back toward the north, passing his eyes once
more to and fro along the line where the dusky sky met the dusky lake,
and then he started a little. A dot detached itself from the center of
the line, followed quickly by another, another and others. They were
points infinitely small, and one at that distance could have told
nothing about them from their appearance only, but he knew they were
Indian canoes. They could be nothing else. It was certain also that
they were seeking the three.
"Do you see them?" asked Robert.
"Yes, and it's a fleet," replied Willet. "They are lighting up the
lake with their bonfires, and their canoes are coming south to drive
us into the open. There's generalship in this. I think St. Luc is
surely in command."
The hunter expressed frank admiration. Often, in the long duel between
them and the redoubtable French leader, he paid tribute to the valor
and skill of St. Luc. Like Robert, he never felt any hostility toward
him. There was nothing small about Willet, and he had abundant esteem
for a gallant foe.
"It's time now to run for it again," he said, "and it's important to
keep out of their sight."
"I think it will be better for us to swim," said Tayoga, "and let the
canoe carry our weapons and ammunition."
"And for us to hide behind it as we've done before. You're right, lad.
The canoe is low and does not make much of a blur upon the lake, but
if we are sitting upright in it we can be much more easily seen. Now,
quick's the word!"
They took off all their outer clothing and moccasins, putting the
garments and their weapons into the little craft, and, sinking into
the water behind it, pushed out from the overhanging boughs. It was
a wise precaution. When they reached the long open stretch of water,
Robert felt that the glow from the nearest bonfire was directly upon
them, although he knew that his fancy made the light much stronger
than it really was.
The canoe still merged with the color of the waves which were now
running freely, and, as the three swam with powerful strokes sending
it swiftly ahead of them, Robert was hopeful that they would reach the
next island, unseen.
The distance seemed to lengthen and grow interminable, and their pace,
although rapid, was to Robert like that of a snail. Yet the longest
journey must come to an end. The new island rose at last before them,
larger than the others but like the rest covered throughout with heavy
forest.
They were almost in its shelter, when a faint cry came from the lofty
cliff on the west. It was a low, whining sound, very distant,
but singularly penetrating, a sinister note with which Robert was
familiar, the Indian war whoop. He recognized it, and understood its
significance. Warriors had seen the canoe and knew that it marked the
flight of the three.
"What do you think we'd better do?" he said.
"We'll stop for a moment or two at the island and take a look around
us," replied Willet.
They moored the canoe, and waded to the shore. Far behind them was
the Indian fleet, about twenty canoes, coming in the formation of
an arrow, while the bonfires on the cliffs towered toward the sky. A
rising wind swept the waves down and they crumbled one after another,
as they broke upon the island.
"It looks like a trap with us inside of it," said the hunter. "That
shout meant that they've seen our canoe, as you lads know. Warriors
have already gone below to head us off, and maybe they've got another
fleet, which, answering their signals, will come up from the south,
shutting us between two forces."
"We are in their trap," admitted Robert, "but we can break out of it.
We've been in traps before, but none of them ever held us."
"So we can, lad. I didn't mean to be discouraging. I was just stating
the situation as it now is. We're a long way from being taken."
"The path has been opened to us," said the Onondaga.
"What do you mean?" asked Robert.
"Lo, Dagaeoga, the wind grows strong, and it sweeps toward the south
the way we were going."
"I hear, Tayoga, but I don't understand."
"We will send the canoe with wind and waves, but we will stay here."
"Put 'em on a false scent!" exclaimed the hunter. "It's a big risk,
but it's the only thing to be done. As the bird saved Robert so the
wind may save us! The waves are running pretty fast toward the south
now and the canoe will ride 'em like a thing of life. They're too far
away to tell whether we are in it."
It was a daring thing to do but Robert too felt that it must be
done, and they did not delay in the doing of it. They took out their
clothing, weapons, and ammunition, Willet gave the canoe a mighty
shove, and it sailed gallantly southward on the crest of the high
waves.
"I feel as if I were saying good-by to a faithful friend," said
Robert.
"It's more than a friend," said Willet. "It's an ally that will draw
the enemy after it, and leave us here in safety."
"If Manitou so wills it," said Tayoga. "It is for him to say whether
the men of Tandakora will pass us by. But the canoe is truly alive,
Dagaeoga. It skims over the lake like a great bird. If it has a spirit
in it, and I do not know that it has not, it guards us, and means to
lead away our enemy in pursuit of it."
Quick to receive impressions, Robert also clothed the canoe with life
and a soul, a soul wholly friendly to the three, who, now stooping
down on the island, amid the foliage, watched the action of the little
craft which seemed, in truth, to be guided by reason.
"Now it pauses a little," said Robert. "It's beckoning to the Indian
fleet to follow."
"It is because it hangs on the top of a wave that is about to break,"
said Willet. "Often you see waves hesitate that way just before they
crumble."
"I prefer to believe with Dagaeoga," said the Onondaga. "The canoe
is our ally, and, knowing that we want the warriors to pass us, it
lingers a bit to call them on."
"It may be as you say," said the hunter, "I'm not one to disturb the
faith of anybody. If the canoe is alive, as you think, then--it is
alive and all the better for us."
"Spirits go into the bodies of inanimate things," persisted the
red youth, "and make them alive for a while. All the people of the
Hodenosaunee have known that for centuries."
"The canoe hesitates and beckons again," said Robert, "and, as sure
as we are here, the skies have turned somewhat darker. The warriors in
the fleet or on the shore cannot possibly tell the canoe is empty."
"Again the hand of Manitou is stretched forth to protect us," said
Tayoga devoutly. "It is he who sends the protecting veil, and we shall
be saved."
"We'll have to wait and see whether the warriors stop and search our
island or follow straight after the canoe. Then we'll know," said
Willet.
"They will go on," said Tayoga, with great confidence. "Look at
the canoe. It is not going so fast now. Why? Because it wishes to
tantalize our enemies, to arouse in their minds a belief that they
can overtake it. It behaves as if we were in it, and as if we were
becoming exhausted by our great exertions with the paddles. Its
conduct is just like that of a man who flees for his life. I know,
although I cannot see their eyes, that the pursuing warriors think
they have us now. They believe that our weakness will grow heavier
and heavier upon us until it overpowers us. Tandakora reckons that our
scalps are already hanging at his belt. Thus does Manitou make foolish
those whom he intends to lead away from their dearest wish."
"I begin to think they're really going to leave us, but it's too early
yet to tell definitely," said the hunter. "We shouldn't give them an
earthly chance to see us, and, for that reason, we'd better retreat
into the heart of the island. We mustn't leave all the work of
deception to the canoe."
"The Great Bear is right," said Tayoga. "Manitou will not help those
who sit still, relying wholly on him."
They drew back fifteen or twenty yards, and sat down on a hillock,
covered with dense bushes, though from their place of hiding they
could see the water on all sides. Unless the Indians landed on the
island and made a thorough search they would not be found. Meanwhile
the canoe was faithful to its trust. The strong wind out of the north
carried it on with few moments of hesitation as it poised on breaking
waves, its striking similitude to life never being lost for an
instant. Robert began to believe with Tayoga that it was, in very
fact and truth, alive and endowed with reason. Why not? The Iroquois
believed that spirits could go into wood and who was he to argue that
white men were right, and red men wrong? His life in the forest had
proved to him often that red men were right and white men wrong.
Whoever might be right the canoe was still a tantalizing object to the
pursuit. It may have been due to a slight shift of the wind, but
it began suddenly to have the appearance of dancing upon the waves,
swinging a little to and fro, teetering about, but in the main keeping
its general course, straight ahead.
Tayoga laughed softly.
"The canoe is in a frolicsome mood," he said. "It has sport with the
men of Tandakora. It dances, and it throws jests at them. It says,
'You think you can catch me, but you cannot. Why do you come so
slowly? Why don't you hurry? I am here. See, I wait a little. I do not
go as fast as I can, because I wish to give you a better chance.' Ah,
here comes the fleet!"
"And here comes our supreme test," said Willet gravely. "If they
turn in toward the island then we are lost, and we'll know in five
minutes."
Robert's heart missed a beat or two, and then settled back steadily.
It was one thing to be captured by the French, and another to be taken
by Tandakora. He resolved to fight to the last, rather than fall into
the hands of the Ojibway chief who knew no mercy. Neither of the three
spoke, not even in whispers, as they watched almost with suspended
breath the progress of the fleet. The bonfires had never ceased to
rise and expand. For a long distance the surface of the lake was
lighted up brilliantly. The crests of the waves near them were tipped
with red, as if with blood, and the strong wind moaned like the voice
of evil. Robert felt a chill in his blood. He knew that the fate of
his comrades and himself hung on a hair.
Nearer came the canoes, and, in the glare of the fires, they saw the
occupants distinctly. In the first boat, a large one for those waters,
containing six paddles, sat no less a person than the great Ojibway
chief himself, bare as usual to the waist and painted in many a
hideous design. Gigantic in reality, the gray night and the lurid
light of the fires made him look larger, accentuating every wicked
feature.
He seemed to Robert to be, in both spirit and body, the prince of
darkness himself.
Just behind Tandakora sat two white men whom the three recognized as
Auguste de Courcelles and François de Jumonville, the French officers
with whom they had been compelled to reckon on other fields of battle
and intrigue. There was no longer any doubt that the French were
present in this great encircling movement, and Robert was stronger
than ever in his belief that St. Luc had the supreme command.
"I could reach Tandakora from here with a bullet," whispered Willet,
"and almost I am tempted to do it."
"But the Great Bear will not yield to his temptation," Tayoga
whispered back. "There are two reasons. He knows that he could slay
Tandakora, but it would mean the death of us all, and the price is too
great. Then he remembers that the Ojibway chief is mine. It is for me
to settle with him, in the last reckoning."
"Aye, lad, you're right. Either reason is good enough. We'll let him
pass, if pass he means, and I hope devoutly that he does."
The fleet preserving its formation was now almost abreast of the
island, and once Robert thought it was going to turn in toward them.
The long boat of Tandakora wavered and the red giant looked at the
island curiously, but, at the last moment the empty canoe, far ahead
and dim in the dark, beckoned them on more insistently than ever.
"Now the die is cast," whispered the Onondaga tensely. "In twenty
seconds we shall know our fate, and I think the good spirit that has
gone into our canoe means to save us."
Tandakora said something to the French officers, and they too looked
at the island, but the fleeing canoe danced on the crest of a high
wave and its call was potent in the souls of white men and red alike.
It was still too far away for them to tell that it was empty. Sudden
fear assailed them in the darkness, that it would escape and with it
the three who had eluded them so often, and whom they wanted most to
take. Tandakora spoke sharply to the paddlers, who bent to their task
with increased energy. The long canoe leaped forward, and with it the
others.
"Manitou has stretched forth his hand once more, and he has stretched
it between our enemies and us," said Tayoga, in a voice of deep
emotion.
"It's so, lad," said the hunter, his own voice shaking a little. "I
truly believe you're right when you say that as the bird was sent to
save Robert so a good spirit was put into the canoe to save us all.
Who am I and who is anybody to question the religion and beliefs of
another man?"
"Nor will I question them," said Robert, with emphasis.
They were stalwart men in the Indian fleet, skilled and enduring with
the paddle, and the fugitive canoe danced before them, a will o'
the wisp that they must pursue without rest. Their own canoes leaped
forward, and, as the arrow into which they were formed shot past the
island, the three hidden in its heart drew the deep, long breaths of
those who have suddenly passed from death to life.
"We won't stop 'em!" said Robert in a whimsical tone. "Speed ye,
Tandakora, speed ye! Speed ye, De Courcelles and De Jumonville of
treacherous memory! If you don't hasten, the flying canoe will yet
escape you! More power to your arms, O ye paddlers! Bend to your
strokes! The canoe that you pursue is light and it is carried in the
heart of the wind! You have no time to lose, white men and red, if you
would reach the precious prize! The faster you go the better you will
like it! And the better we will, too! On! swift canoes, on!"
"The imagination of Dagaeoga has been kindled again," said Tayoga,
"and the bird with a golden note has gone into his throat. Now he
can talk, and talk much, without ever feeling weariness--as is his
custom."
"At least I have something to talk about," laughed Robert. "I was
never before so glad to see the backs of anybody, as I am now to look
at the backs of those Indians and Frenchmen."
"We won't do anything to stop 'em," said the hunter.
From their hillock they saw the fleet sweep on at a great rate toward
the south, while the fires in the north, no longer necessary to the
Indian plan, began to die. The red tint on the water then faded, and
the surface of the lake became a solemn gray.
"It's well for us those fires sank," said the hunter, "because while
Tandakora has gone on we can't live all the rest of our lives on this
little island. We've got to get to the mainland somehow without being
seen."
"And darkness is our best friend," said Robert.
"So it is, and in their pursuit of the canoe our foes are likely to
relax their vigilance on this part of the lake. Can you see our little
boat now, Robert?"
"Just faintly, and I think it's a last glimpse. I hope the wind behind
it will stay so strong that Tandakora will never overtake it. I should
hate to think that a canoe that has been such a friend to us has been
compelled to serve our enemies. There it goes, leading straight ahead,
and now it's gone! Farewell, brave and loyal canoe! Now what do you
intend to do, Dave?"
"Swim to the mainland as soon as those fires sink a little more.
We have got to decide when the head of a swimming man won't show to
chance warriors in the bushes, and then make a dash for it, because,
if Tandakora overtakes the canoe, he'll be coming back."
"In a quarter of an hour it will be dark enough for us to risk it,"
said the Onondaga.
Again came the thick dusk so necessary to those who flee for life. Two
fires on the high cliffs blazed far in the south, but the light from
them did not reach the island where the three lay, where peril had
grazed them before going on. The water all about them and the nearer
shores lay in shadow.
"The time to go has come," said the hunter. "We'll swim to the western
side and climb through that dip between the high cliffs."
"How far would you say it is?" asked Robert.
"About a half mile."
"Quite a swim even for as good swimmers as we are, when you consider
we have to carry our equipment. Why not launch one of those fallen
trees that lie near the water's edge and make it carry us?"
"A good idea, Robert! A happy thought does come now and then into that
young head of yours."
"Dagaeoga is wiser than he looks," said the Onondaga.
"I wish I could say the same for you, Tayoga," retorted young Lennox.
"Oh, you'll both learn," laughed Willet.
As in the ancient wood everywhere, there were fallen trees on the
island and they rolled a small one about six inches through at the
stem into the lake. They chose it because it had not been down long
and yet had many living branches, some with young leaves on them.
"There is enough foliage left to hide our heads and shoulders," said
Willet. "The tree will serve a double purpose. It's our ship and also
our refuge."
They took off all their clothing and fastened it and the arms,
ammunition and knapsacks of food on the tree. Then, they pushed
off, with a caution from the hunter that they must not allow their
improvised raft to turn in the water, as the wetting of the ammunition
could easily prove fatal.
With a prayer that fortune which had favored them so much thus far
would still prove kind, they struck out.