of wind that he occasionally felt, he hoped he had, in a great measure, effected his purpose.  Still he had his apprehensions of the savages; as some would be very apt to swim quite out into the stream, not only to look for him, but to avoid being entangled among the plants.  It was only in the natural channels of the rice, of which there were a good many, that a swimmer could very readily make his way, or be in much safety.  By waiting long enough, moreover, the bee-hunter was sure he should tire out his pursuers, and thus get rid of them.

Just as le Bourdon began to think this last-mentioned purpose had been accomplished, he heard low voices directly to windward, and the splashing of water, as if more than one man was coming down upon him, forcing the stalks of the plants aside.  He grasped the rifle, and let the canoe drift, which it did slowly, under the power of the wind, notwithstanding the protection of the cover.  The swimmers forced their way through the stalks; but it was evident, just then, that they were more occupied by their present pursuit than in looking for him.  Presently a canoe came brushing through the rice, forced by the wind, and dragged by two savages, one of whom swam on each bow.  The last did not see the bee-hunter, or his canoe, the one nearest having his face turned in the opposite direction; but they were distinctly seen by the former.  Surprised that a seizure should be made with so little fracas, le Bourdon bent forward to look the better, and, as the stern of the strange canoe came almost under his eyes, he saw the form of Margery lying in its bottom.  His blood curdled at this sight; for his first impression was, that the charming young creature had been killed and scalped; but there being no time to lose, he sprang lightly from one canoe to the other, carrying the rifle in his hand.  As he struck in the bottom of the boat of Gershom, he heard his name uttered in a sweet female voice, and knew that Margery was living.  Without stopping, however, to inquire more, he moved to the head of the canoe, and, with a sharp blow on the fingers, made each of the savages release his grasp.  Then, seizing the rice-plants, he dragged the little craft swiftly to windward again.  All this was done, as it might be, in an instant; the savages and the canoe being separated some twenty feet, in much less time than is required to relate the occurrence.

“Bourdon, are you injured?” asked Margery, her voice trembling with anxiety.

“Not in the least, dear Margery—­and you, my excellent girl?”

“They caught my canoe, and I almost died of fright; but they have only dragged it toward the shore.”

“God be praised!  Is there any paddle in the canoe?”

“There are several—­one is at your feet, Bourdon—­and here, I have another.”

“Then, let us search for my canoe, and get out of the rice.  If we can but find my canoe, we shall be safe enough, for the savages have nothing in which to cross the river.  Keep your eyes about you, Margery, and look among the rice for the other boat”