Get in, Mr.
Maurice, get in; the sooner we are away from this the better. The
Redskins--for sure it must be them--will make towards the fire, and, if
they haven't yet seen us, they'll be puzzled to know where we have gone
to."

Seizing my gun, which lay on the ground by my side, for from force of
habit I had carried it with me when I had landed, I stepped carefully
back into the canoe. Immediately I had taken my seat, Tim shoved her
off as far out into the stream as he could, then grasping his paddle,
began to ply it with might and main.

"Stop!" I whispered, after we had got a little distance. "In what
direction did you fancy you heard the sounds? It appears to me that
they are coming up the river instead of down."

"Sure, you're right, Mr. Maurice," answered Tim, who had ceased
paddling. "I see the canoe too, an' a big one she is; she's full of
savages. We may get over to the shadow of the opposite bank, an'
they'll not perceive us. Use the paddle gently though, so as to make as
little noise as possible."

While working away as he advised, I kept my eye down the stream, looking
out for the canoe, which Tim fancied he had seen. Before long I also
perceived it; indeed, it looked so high out of the water that I was
convinced it was of much larger size than the ordinary Indian canoes.
It was being directed towards the fire which we had left only a few
minutes before; those on board being naturally anxious to see who were
encamped there.

We had got over by this time to the opposite shore, and, as far as I
could judge, had escaped observation; so that we could easily, by
keeping under the shadow of the trees, paddle down the stream. But as I
again looked towards the boat, I was convinced that she was of large
size, and full of white men.

Remaining perfectly quiet, before long we heard their voices. There was
no doubt that they were whites; perhaps our friends coming to look for
us. Tim was at length satisfied that I was right. We forthwith paddled
back. To prevent any one mistaking us for Indians, and sending a chance
shot at us, I hailed, "Who are you, friends?"

"Why, that must be Maurice! Hurrah! he's not lost, then," I heard a
voice exclaim, which I recognised as that of Carlos; and directly
afterwards Lejoillie shouted out--

"Glad to see you alive. Come here!"

We were soon alongside; and Tim making the canoe fast, he and I stepped
on board the boat. We found that she was a long, large