Supposin' them critters cross higher up?"
It was the wily Jim who asked the question, staring at Steve with a grim smile on his lips. "Ah. Them varmint wants to make us think they're stayin' over yonder. Them bullets came close."
Three reports rang out from the far bank as he spoke, and the shots flew through the osiers, stripping a shower of flat leaves from the reeds.
"Perhaps they guess we are about to destroy their canoes," whispered Tom. "But I admit that they are likely to attempt to swim across unseen, and come down upon us. We should make nothing of such a crossing, and you may be sure that they would not. They would cut down a few reeds to carry their muskets and their powder, and would soon get to this side. If they try that game, we must slip away at once, and we can rely on Silver Fox to give us a warning. Look for yourselves. The river runs without a bend for a very long way, and our look-out would detect any such movement."
"That air right. Reckon you've put it square, Judge," said Jim. "What's this young Steve got to say? You was supposin'."
"I suggested that we should leave these canoes for a time. At any moment we can destroy them, for a few slashes with a tomahawk will do all that is required."
"That air so. What then?"
"One moment," answered Steve. "Supposing we were to get aboard our canoes and put out into the river, what would happen?"
"Happen? Reckon you'd soon hear from them ere critters. Ef yer think of doin' a thing like that, Steve Mainwarin', why you ain't the son of Judge here. Ef yer want to get killed so badly, best paddle clean across an' invite them fellers to wipe the hul party out properly. It ain't in reason," he went on, hotly. "Ef we was aboard, all packed together, they'd pick us off like birds."
"If they could see us," ventured Steve, smiling at Jim's excitement.
"Ef they could see us! Thunder! Do yer think there's a redskin as wouldn't be able, even at night. 'Sides, the moon'll be up soon after the night comes, and with the light they'd have, shootin' would be easier. Jest shake yerself, Steve."
He looked severely at the young trapper, and then turned as Tom broke in upon the silence which had followed the old backwoodsman's words.
"You wait a little, Jim," said the burly Englishman. "Steve has given us a hint more than once in the past twenty-four hours. Try him again. I'll be bound he's got something under that hunting cap of his. He's a regular young conspirator. What is it, Steve?"
"Just this. We are stranded here I take it. We cannot move into the river, for the Indians would shoot us down. They cannot easily cross, for we have their canoes, and I am sure that they have no others hidden along the river. That is why they sent four men along this side, with instructions to paddle the whole lot across. Until the night comes they can do very little. But once it is dark they will send half their number over, and then we shall be in danger of attack. So it comes to this. They can afford to wait, and, in fact, must do so. We cannot. If we wait they will be across before the night is an hour old, and then with a party on either side, even though they have no canoes, they will have us."
Tom nodded emphatically, while Jim scratched amongst the osiers with the soft toe of his moccasin.
"That air so," he drawled. "Then what's the ticket?"
"We must move. I thought that with these canoes to help us we might manage to get away. Now, Jim, don't open your mouth as if you would like to swallow me. Do you think these reeds would keep out a bullet if piled fairly close together?"
For a second the trapper looked closely at the osiers, feeling them with his hand. He tore one out by the roots, and then gripped it between his teeth.
"They're soft and pulpy inside," he said, a light gathering on his face. "Reckon, as they stand, a bullet would rip through 'em as if they was only cotton. See that! Ain't I right?"
Another series of reports had suddenly rung out from the far side, and again the leaden messengers tore through the osiers.
"Jest as ef they was cotton," he repeated. "But ef yer was to pile 'em close together, then I reckon a bullet would find it hard to get through. Steve, you ain't such a duffer as I thought, not by a long way. What're yer after?"
"Just this," laughed Steve, for his nimble brain had hit upon a plan which might help the whole party. "We have five canoes here. We can break up two of them, and by jamming the sides into two of the others can raise the gunwales from the water. Then we can pack them with reeds. They'll take a lot without sinking, for these stalks are very light and buoyant. Once we're ready we can float them out between us and the redskins, and then they can fire till they're tired."
Jim threw his cap in the air, and, unmindful of the fact that the action immediately brought a shower of bullets, danced and capered in the reeds. He was a queer and light-hearted trapper. For all his sagacity and cunning, he was but a boy, and behaved like one when anything out of the way happened.
"Cap'n," he cried, gripping Steve by the hand. "I ain't fit to lead this party no longer. Reckon you've won the place. Boys, we air goin' ter do as Steve says, and get the laugh on them critters."
Chapter V
Jules Lapon is Disappointed
Steve Mainwaring had suddenly leaped higher in the estimation of his comrades, and even Tom Mainwaring, who was apt to look upon his son with the proud eye of an indulgent father, now regarded him with eyes which shone with strange enthusiasm. For Steve had done well. Even when he was only a little mite he had shown courage, and as he grew bigger and stronger, and mastered the ways of the backwoodsmen and the habits of the Indians, amongst some of whom he was often thrown, his elders had seen that he was a promising pupil, while the redskins themselves had christened him the Hawk, no small compliment from such a race. Then Steve had a great advantage. While learning the ways of the backwoods, he had had an excellent education from his father, which added something to his astuteness. And now, little by little, these grizzled veterans of the forest were beginning to discover his worth. They had already found in him a lad who could barter their pelts far better than they could. Hitherto they had been always able to rely upon his sagacity, his courage, and his shooting, and now —
"Cap'n," repeated Jim again, pushing his coon-skin cap back from his bald head and gripping Steve's hand. "That 'ere plan air 'cute. Thunder! One of these here redskin skunks wouldn't ha' thought of it, and when they see us come out from the bank, why – "
The thought was too much for the old hunter. He stood staring into Steve's face, taking closer stock of the lad perhaps than he had ever done before, for familiarity with a person often makes us slow to discover virtues, which, after all, are only buried beneath the surface. Good points, which are hardly skin deep, and which have escaped our notice hitherto, only become apparent when some unusual incident brings them prominently before our eyes.
"That air a lad to be proud of, Judge," he said, wiping the perspiration from his forehead. "Reckon he's lain quiet up to this, or else we should ha' found him out. He's got a bit of your way of stayin' quiet, and openin' his mouth only when he's axed a question or when there's need for a lawyer or a cap'n. It's sartin he's got the hang of this matter, and I votes that he leads till we're home agin. 'Twon't do no harm to us. What do yer say, red head?"
Mac doubled an enormous fist, shook it in Jim's face and grinned, a grin which set his lips back from his teeth, and exposed a cavity reaching almost from ear to ear. It was the grin of a man who has suddenly heard good news, and who has had a load taken from his mind.
"Red head! Bedad, 'tis mesilf as will
