kes of Tayoga. As the current
helped much, their speed was considerable, nevertheless. The river
flowed, a silver torrent, in the clear light of the morning, a fish
leaping up now and then in the waters so seldom stirred by any strange
presence. The whole scene was saturated with the beauty and the majesty
of the wilderness, and to the eye that did not know it suggested only
peace. But Robert often lifted his gaze from the paddle and the river to
search the green thickets on either side. They were only casual glances,
Willet being at once their sentinel and guard.

The great hunter was never more keenly alert. His thick, powerful figure
was poised evenly in the canoe, and the long-barreled rifle lay in the
hollow of his arm, his hand on the lock and his finger on the trigger.
Eyes, trained by many years in the forest, searched continually among
the trees for a figure that did not belong there, and, at the same
time, he listened for the sound of any movement not natural to the
wilderness. He felt his full responsibility as the rifleman of the fleet
of one canoe, and he accepted it.

"Lads," he said, "we're approaching the narrowest part of the river. It
runs straight, I can see a full mile ahead, and for all that distance
it's not more than thirty yards from shore to shore. Now use the
strength that you've been saving, and send the canoe forward like an
arrow. Those are grand strokes, Tayoga! And yours too, Robert! Now, our
speed is increasing! We fairly fly! Good lads! I knew you were both
wonderful with the paddle, but I did not know you were such marvels!
Never mind the woods, Robert, I'm watching 'em! Faster! A little faster,
if you can! I think I see something moving in a thicket on our right!
Bang, there goes his rifle! Just as I expected, his bullet hit the water
twenty feet from us! And bang goes my own rifle! How do you like that,
my good friend Tandakora?"

"Did you make an end of him?" asked Robert breathlessly.

"No," replied the hunter, although his tone was one of satisfaction. "I
had to shoot when I saw the flash of his rifle, and I had only a glimpse
of him. But I saw enough to know that my bullet took him in the
shoulder. His rifle fell from his hand, and then he dropped down in the
underbrush, thinking one of you might snatch up a weapon and fire. No, I
didn't make an end of him, Robert, but I did make an end of his warfare
upon us for a while. That bullet must have gone clean through his
shoulder,