“No shoot,” he ordered.  “Paddle.  Quick.”

And in truth there was urgent need, for the canoe had swung somewhat to the left and was in danger of being swamped by the big waves as they rolled and tossed their white foamy manes.  Another bullet sang by as Dane drove his paddle into the water and forced the canoe into the eye of the wind just as a larger wave than usual was about to break.  To attempt to shoot he realised would be useless, although he longed to have a try at the insulting slashers.  But to reach the opposite shore in safety would require every ounce of strength and utmost skill, so he bent steadily to his task and paid no further heed to the men upon the shore.

Ahead lay two islands, separated by a narrow strip of water, and toward this opening they directed their course.  It was a hard fight, and only men of great strength and thoroughly-developed muscles could have accomplished the task.  Reeling, dipping, lifting, and sliding, the canoe pressed on, a fragile thing in the grip of an angry monster.  But bear up it did and rode proudly at last into the smooth water between the two islands.  Here the men rested and mopped their moist foreheads.

“Bad blow,” the Indian casually remarked.

“Pretty heavy,” Dane replied.  “I wish the slashers had come after us.”

“Slashers, ugh!  Cowards!  No come.  Bimeby me ketch ’em.  Me fix ’em, all sam’ skunk.”

Dane smiled as he again dipped his paddle into the water.

“Come, Pete, let’s get on.  There’s a nasty run ahead, and it’ll take us over two hours after we land to reach the Fort.”

“Plenty rum to-night, eh?” the Indian queried, as he guided the canoe out into the open.

“Not plenty, remember, Pete.  You’ve got to be careful this time and not take too much.  If there are slashers hanging around the trading post they’ll be only too anxious to get you drunk, and put you out of business.  There’s too much at stake to run any risk.”

“Umph! me no get drunk,” the Indian retorted.  “Me no fool.  Me no crazee white man.”

It took them almost a half hour to cross to the mainland.  Here they landed, concealed the canoe, and ate a frugal meal of bread and dried meat.  This detained them but a short time, and they then started forth upon the trail which led along the river not far from the shore.  They swung rapidly on their way, up hill and down, leaping small brooks, and crossing swamps overgrown with a tangle of alders, rank grass, and succulent weeds.  Small game was plentiful.  Rabbits scurried across the trail, and partridges rose and whirred among the trees.  But the travellers never paused in their onward march.  Although they had been on the way since early morning, they showed no sign of fatigue.  Their strong athletic bodies, bent somewhat forward, swayed in rythmic motion, and their feet beat a silent tatoo upon the well-worn trail.