He laid down his paddle and took up his rifle, which he had reloaded.

"Them Injuns have guns, but they are not generally ez good ez ours," he
said. "They don't carry ez fur. Now jest watch me change the set uv that
savage's figger. I wouldn't do it, but he's just a-pinin' fur our blood
an' the hair on top uv our heads."

Up went the long Kentucky rifle, and the moonlight fell clearly along its
polished barrel. Then came the flash, the spurt of smoke, the report
echoing among the hills about the lake, and the chief fell forward with
his face in the water. A yell of rage arose from the others, and again
bullets pattered on the surface of the lake, but all fell short. Jim Hart
calmly reloaded his rifle.

"That'll teach 'em to be a little more keerful who they're a-follerin',"
he said. "Now, Paul, let's paddle."

They sent the boat swiftly toward the north end of the lake, and Paul now
and then caught glimpses of the Miamis trying to keep parallel with it,
although out of range; but presently, as they passed the island, and could
swing out into the middle of the lake, the last of them sank permanently
from sight. But the two kept on in the canoe. The moonlight faded a
little, and soon the hills on the shore could be seen only as a black
blur.

"This is jest too easy, Paul," said Jim Hart, "With them runnin' aroun'
that big outer circle, they couldn't keep up with us even ef they could
see us. Let's rest a while."

Both put their paddles inside the canoe and drew long breaths. Each had a
feeling of perfect safety, for the time at least, and they let the boat
drift northward under the gentle wind from the south that rippled the
surface of the lake.

"Water and darkness," said Paul. "They are our friends."

"The best we could have," said Jim Hart. "Are you rested now, Paul?"

"I'm fresh again."

They resumed the paddles, and, curving about, came down on the western
side of the lake until they were opposite the island. Then they paddled
straight for their home, and the word "home," in this case, had its full
meaning for Paul. It gave him a thrill of delight when the prow of the
canoe struck upon the margin of the little island, and the gloom of the
great trees was friendly and protecting.

"We must hide the canoe good," said Jim Hart.

They concealed it in a thick clump of bushes, and then Hart carefully
readjusted the bushes so that no one would notice that they had ever been
disturbed, and they took their way