In something less than an hour, the swamp, in the interior of which was the Huron’s lodge, was reached; but instead of taking the usual route to it, Niniotan diverged to the left, until they reached a portion of the creek that was less swampy in its character.  Running along its bank a few moments, the boy came upon a canoe, which he shoved into the water, and, springing into it, took his seat in front.  Oonomoo was scarce a second behind him.  The son pointed down-stream, and, dipping deep the paddle, the Huron sent the frail vessel forward at a velocity that was truly wonderful.  A half-mile at this rate, and a tributary of the creek—­a brook, merely—­was reached, up which the canoe shot with such speed, that a few minutes later it ran almost its entire length where the water was no more than an inch in depth.  Springing ashore, Niniotan darted off, closely followed by his father, until they reached a portion of the wood so dense that they paused.

“Here was left Fluellina,” said the boy, looking around at Oonomoo.  The latter uttered his usual signal, a tremulous, thrilling whistle, similar to that by which he had made himself known to his child before, but he received no response.  Three times it was repeated with a considerable rest, when, like the faint echo far in the distance, came back the response.  The Huron was about to plunge into the thicket, when a sound caught his ear, and the next moment his wife was before him.  Neither spoke a word, until they had stood a few seconds in a fervent embrace, when Fluellina stepped back, and looking up in her husband’s face, said:  “The Shawnees have found our home and are now following me.”

The husband became the warrior on the instant.  His woodcraft told him that if his foes were searching for him and his, they would be in such force that he could not hope to combat with them; and the only plan, therefore, that offered him any safety was to fall back and meet his white friends at the earliest possible moment.  In reaching the creek, he had bent down the bushes, and broken the branches on the way so that his trail could be followed without difficulty.

He now sped back to his canoe, which, when reached, he shoved into deep water, and ran a considerable distance before he deemed it best to enter.  Lifting Fluellina in his arms, he deposited her carefully in it.  Niniotan leaped after her, and the next moment they were going down the stream at a speed that seemed would tear the boat asunder every moment.  Debouching into the creek, the canoe rounded gracefully and went upward with undiminished velocity, until, in almost an incredible space, the point of embarkation was reached, when Oonomoo ran in and sprung ashore, followed instantly by his wife and son.