along the edge of a smaller ravine,
that led toward the river. While thus engaged, the body of the deer
struck a projecting rock, and before Tim could save himself he rolled
over and over for a distance of twenty odd feet, coming down plump upon
the deer without injuring himself in the least.

"I'm obliged to yez," he said, as he rose and stared around with a
bewildered air. "That was kind in yez, and I'll not forget the favor."

Again raising his carcass to his shoulder, he resumed his journey toward
the river. But as he progressed the weight upon his shoulder seemed to
grow heavier, and he was obliged to pause and rest himself quite often.
On these occasions he looked around him half-expecting to see the three
savages spring out of the bushes.

If such a thing should occur, Tim had already decided upon his mode of
procedure. He intended to sink to the ground at once, with the body of
the deer as a sheltering breastwork, and make as gallant fight as
possible. His success in bringing down his game, when it was fully fifty
yards distant, gave him quite a flattering estimate of his prowess.

The Indians, as the Irishman had anticipated, hastened up the gorge to
secure the daring hunter, who had so audaciously exposed himself to
their anger. It required some time for them to find the exact spot where
the deer had fallen, and when they did so, they followed him readily by
the blood which had trickled from its drooping head, which as Tim bore
his prize away he little dreamed would betray the course he took.

When the point of Tim's fall was reached, all signs of his trail ceased,
and they supposed he had checked the flow of blood, and thus concealed
his tracks. The surface over which he traversed being rock and flinty
ground, left no evidence of his passage; and resigning, therefore, the
pursuit in this manner, they made their way leisurely down to the river
and waited until the hunter appeared.

Tim's heart beat high with hope when he found himself close by the
stream and saw nothing of his pursuers. The hasty signal given by Elwood
Brandon, as we have shown, caused him some uneasiness, but not being
repeated, and being very anxious to get back to the island, he placed
the deer in the canoe and paddled away.

CHAPTER XXV.

A SINGULAR ESCAPE.

The shot from the treacherous Indian upon the shore was the first
intelligent warning Tim had that he was discovered by them. The kind
Providence who had so often tu