The Wilderness Fugitives Part 7

"We aren't going to let you get out that way," continued the young scout; "we want a reply to the question I put to you."

Without relaxing the broad grin on his painted face, the Mohawk said:

"Lena-Wingo take over in this boat, if want to go."

Jo was half angry, and was on the point of saying something impatient, when his sister interfered.

"Lena-Wingo has answered your question, Jo; he says that he will take us across in this boat, if we want him to, and I'm sure that is as plain an answer as any one could ask for."

"It isn't as clear as I want, but if you are satisfied I'm certain that Ned and I are also, and have nothing more to say."

"I am not afraid to trust myself in this boat with him, for I am convinced he wouldn't undertake it if he wasn't confident he could accomplish the voyage. So go ahead, Lena-Wingo, for there has been so much delay that we'll never get across if we wait much longer."

This settled the question, and the preparations for the embarkation followed immediately. The scow was shoved off a little from the sh.o.r.e, so that the combined weight would not make it too difficult to move it.

Then Rosa took her place in the furthest part, and her brother and lover did the same. Lena-Wingo waited till all had arranged themselves, when he forced the craft clear of the land, and sprang lightly into it, as it was still moving away into the stream.

The handling of a pole is not an occupation to which the Indians, as a general thing, are trained, and it was not to be expected that the Mohawk would display anything like the skill which he possessed in the management of the paddle. But Lena-Wingo was one of those individuals, occasionally seen, who seem to take naturally to any kind of physical exercise, and he controlled the rather awkward implement in a way that excited more than one commendatory remark from the two youths who were watching him.

This species of craft is intended for water close to the land, and always where it is shallow, so that the redman was under a disadvantage, even with all his skill. As the pole was long enough to touch the bottom in any portion of the stream, there was no fear that he would not reach the other sh.o.r.e, provided he was not disturbed by his enemies; but when his companions reflected on what might take place, in case they were forced to resort to anything like a contest with the Iroquois, they could not but shudder, and regret that the start was made.

They had hardly left the land behind them when, as if by a common impulse, all three of the whites turned their heads and gazed doubtfully at the sh.o.r.e they were approaching. In the gloom of the night it could not be seen at all, a dark wall seeming to shut it from view. As the water deepened, the current became swifter and the task of managing the unwieldly craft more difficult, though it was hard to see how any one could have done better than the Mohawk.

It was impossible to cross in anything like a direct line, and it was found that they were drifting rapidly down stream. Still, Lena-Wingo persevered in his calm, unexcited way until the middle of the river was nearly reached, when it struck both the young scouts that it was hardly the thing for them to sit idle in the boat while he was toiling so manfully to work his way over. Ned whispered to Jo that he meant to take a hand at the pole.

"Do so," whispered his friend back again, "and when you are tired, I will try it, for it will tire us all pretty well before we make the other sh.o.r.e. I am sure you can do as well as he."

Ned arose at once, and stepping across the length of the swaying craft, reached out his hand for the pole.

"Let me help you, Jack; there is no need of wearying yourself out when we are doing nothing."

Ned expected that the Mohawk would refuse to let him interfere, but, to his surprise, he a.s.sented at once.

"Take him--he ain't a paddle," replied the redman, pa.s.sing the implement over to him.

"You are right on that point," laughed the youth as he accepted it from him, and almost immediately found the truth of the declaration verified in his own experience.

They were in deeper water than they supposed, the depth having increased very rapidly in the last few minutes. But Clinton went at the work manfully, with the determination to do all he could for the "good of the cause."

CHAPTER XI.

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 circ.u.mstances, and the young scout was of the opinion that he was not making any progress at all toward the other sh.o.r.e.

"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 sh.o.r.e 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 a.s.sistance, 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 sh.o.r.e 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 sh.o.r.e 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 pa.s.sed, when operations were suddenly checked by the Mohawk uttering his warning aspiration: