With a loudly beating heart and almost without breathing he watched them, thankful enough for the shelter of broad lily-leaves that raised their green barrier in front of him.  He was fully conscious that upon the result of the conversation the two were holding, in such low tones that he could not distinguish a word, depended his own fate.  He knew, from what Has-se had told him, that Chitta regarded him as an enemy, and he knew also that for his enemies an Indian reserves but one fate, and will kill them if he can.

Thus it was with the feeling that he had escaped a mortal peril, and with a long-drawn sigh of relief, that he saw the discussion come to an end, and the strange canoe continue on its course up-stream.  It disappeared in the direction from which he and Has-se had come before encountering the moccasin.  Then he became feverishly impatient to leave a place that seemed so full of danger, and he longed eagerly for Has-se’s return.

Although Rene watched anxiously for Has-se, he also cast frequent glances towards the stream, fearful lest Chitta and his companion should again appear.  Thus he was not looking when his friend emerged from the forest, and did not hear the light tread of his moccasined feet.  Nor was he aware of any presence near him, until a low laugh, which so startled him that he almost upset the canoe, gave the first hint of his friend’s return.

“Oh, Has-se!” he exclaimed, in a whisper rendered hoarse by his excitement, “glad am I to see thee once more.  Chitta is in pursuit of us, and with him is as evil-looking an Indian as ever I saw, but large and powerful withal.”

Then he related the whole incident of the appearance of the strange canoe, to which Has-se listened with grave attention.

When Rene had finished he said, “Has-se also has something to tell.  Far down the river, on the side opposite the end of the trail, he heard the sound of many voices, and he knows his people are there.  Let us go to them.”

“But if we venture out into the stream, will not Chitta and the one with him see us?”

“If they do not until we float on the river, they must prove themselves swifter than Hu-la-lah” (the wind) “to catch us before we reach friends.  How is thy hand?  Is the sting of Chitta-wewa still painful?”

“Oh! my hand?  Why, no; I had no thought of it until now.  Thanks to thy application, the pain and the swelling seem alike to have been removed.”

“Then let us go, and if it comes to meeting Chitta, we will see if we cannot render his sting as harmless as that of his namesake Chitta-wewa.”

Very cautiously the two boys paddled their canoe out from the lagoon, and headed it down the narrow river towards the place where they hoped to find friends.

Having reached the stream in safety, they were about to congratulate each other on their good-fortune, when suddenly a wild scream, such as is made by an enraged panther, came ringing down through the dark forest glade behind them.