he camp, but halted at the sound of approaching voices. Then
two figures appeared through the dusk, both running, and one apparently
pursued by the other. But one was swearing, and the other laughing.
It was poor Bullen, clad in the ragged blanket,--which was now his sole
garment,--sent down to fetch his own tub, to which one of the chiefs
had taken such a fancy that he always sat in it before the evening
camp-fires. The labor of carrying it up from the canoes at night, and
back again in the morning devolved upon its original owner, who had
thus come to hate it with a bitter hatred. This time he had purposely
shirked the task of lugging the clumsy thing up that steep bank, and so
had been sent back for it. The young guard who accompanied him was
already exhilarated by a cup of fire-water, and in such haste to return
for more that he found great delight in compelling his charge to run by
prodding him from behind with a fish-spear.

As Donald was somewhat hidden in the shadow of a tree, neither of the
newcomers noticed him, until the little paymaster had succeeded in
getting the tub on his back, and started to retrace his weary way to
the camp. Then, as Donald stepped from the shadow, Bullen, recognizing
him, and instantly realizing their opportunity, turned like a flash,
lunged forward with lowered head, and butted the young savage squarely
in the stomach. He fell like a log, with his assailant and the tub on
top of him. Ere he could regain his voice or breath, he was gagged,
bound, and lifted into a canoe, which was immediately shoved off.

No word was spoken by either of the fugitives as the light craft shot
away under the noiseless but powerful dips of their straining paddles;
but, in spite of his anxiety, Donald could not help noticing and
wondering at his comrade's proficiency in the art of canoeing. The
painful lessons of his captivity had taught him how to escape from it;
and he who two months before had never seen a birch canoe was now
paddling one with the skill of an expert.

They were not gone from the beach more than five minutes, though their
point of departure was already lost to view in the darkness, when a
confusion of voices announced that their escape was discovered, and
infused a new energy into their efforts. Donald was laying a course
due west, and not more than a quarter of a mile from the beach. All at
once he laid in his paddle, and said: "Face about carefully, Bullen,
and help me chu