plain ez day. They've been ruled by Dogs at
Venice for more than a thousand years, an' on big 'casions the Dog comes
down a canal in a golden barge, settin' on the Pup. I'll admit it 'pears
strange to me, too, but who are you an' me, Jim Hart, to question the
ways of foreign countries, thousands o' miles on the other side o' the
sea?"

"They've found the boat," said Tom Ross, "an' that's enough!"

"Is it really true?" asked Mrs. Newton.

"It is," replied Shif'less Sol, "an' Henry an' Paul are in it, waitin'
fur us. We're thinkin', Mrs. Newton, that the roughest part of your trip
is over."

In another five minutes all were in the boat, which was a really fine
one, and they were delighted. Mary Newton for the first time broke down
and wept, and no one disturbed her. The five spread the blankets on the
bottom of the boat, where the children soon went to sleep once more, and
Tom Ross and Shif'less Sol took the oars.

"Back in a boat ag'in," said the shiftless one exultantly. "Makes me
feel like old times. My fav'rite mode o' travelin' when Jim Hart, 'stead
o' me, is at the oars."

"Which is most o' the time," said Long Jim.

It was indeed a wonderful change to these people worn by the wilderness.
They lay at ease now, while two pairs of powerful arms, with scarcely an
effort, propelled the boat along the stream. The woman herself lay down
on the blankets and fell asleep with the children. Henry at the prow,
Tom Ross at the stern, and Paul amidships watched in silence, but with
their rifles across their knees. They knew that the danger was far from
over. Other Indians were likely to use this stream, unknown to them, as
a highway, and those who survived of their original captors could pick
up their trail by daylight. And the Senecas, being mad for revenge,
would surely get help and follow. Henry believed that the theory of
returning toward the Wyoming Valley was sound. That region had been so
thoroughly ravaged now that all the Indians would be going northward.
If they could float down a day or so without molestation, they would
probably be safe. The creek, or, rather, little river, broadened,
flowing with a smooth, fairly swift current. The forest on either side
was dense with oak, hickory, maple, and other splendid trees, often
with a growth of underbrush. The three riflemen never ceased to watch
intently. Henry always looked ahead. It would have been difficult for
any ambushed marksman to have escaped his notice. B