Meanwhile the uncaptured canoe sailed on in lonely majesty down the stream.

“That was a shrewd blow of yours, Dave,” said Robert.  “You struck fairly upon his jaw bone.”

“It’s not often that I fight an Indian with my fists, and the chance having come I made the most of it,” said the hunter.  “He may have been a sentinel set to watch for just such an attempt as we are making, but it’s likely they thought if we made a dash for it we’d be in the canoe.”

“It was great wisdom for us to swim,” said Tayoga.  “Another sentinel seeing the canoe may also think it was washed away somewhere and is merely floating on the waters.  I can see a heap of underbrush that has gathered against a projecting point, and the current would naturally bring the canoe into it.  Suppose we let it rest there until it seems to work free by the action of the water, and then go on down the river.”

“It’s a good idea, Tayoga, but it’s a pretty severe test to remain under fire, so to speak, in order to deceive your enemy, when the road is open for you to run away.”

“But we can do it, all three of us,” said Tayoga, confidently.

A spit of high ground projected into the river and in the course of time enough driftwood brought by the stream and lodged there had made a raft of considerable width and depth, against which the canoe in its wandering course lodged.  But it was evident that its stay in such a port would be but temporary, as the current continually pushed and sucked at it, and the light craft quivered and swayed continually under the action of the current.

The three behind the canoe thrust themselves back into the mass of vegetation, reckless of scratches, and were hidden completely for the time.  Since he was no longer kept warm by the act of swimming Robert felt the chill of the water entering his bones.  His physical desire to shiver he controlled by a powerful effort of the will, and, standing on the bottom with his head among the boughs, he remained quiet.

None of the three spoke and in a few minutes a warrior on the other side of the stream, watching in the bushes, saw the dim outline of the canoe in the darkness.  He came to the edge of the water and looked at it attentively.  It was apparent to him, as it had been to the other savage, that it was a stray canoe, and valuable, a fine prize for the taking.  But he was less impulsive than the first man had been and at that point the river spread out to a much greater width.  He did not know that his comrade was lying on the bank farther up in a half stunned condition, but he was naturally cautious and he stared at the canoe a long time.  He saw that the action of the current would eventually work it loose from the raft, but he believed it would yet hang there for at least ten minutes.  So he would have time to go back to his nearest comrade and return with him.  Then one could enter the water and salvage the canoe, while the other stayed on the bank and watched.  Having reached this wise conclusion he disappeared in the woods, seeking the second Indian, but before the two could come together the canoe had worked loose and was gone.