been
their destination so long, and which he was determined to make this
time.

The skill with which he controlled and swayed the ashen blade was
wonderful. The night was still, without a breath of air stirring the
tree-tops, but the instant the boat left the cover of the bank, the
faces of the whites were swept as if by a gale. At that rate, the other
shore would be made in a very short time, and the action of the Mohawk
indicated that such was his purpose, guided, perhaps, by the hope that
it might be done before the alarm could reach those grouped on that
side.

But they were as vigilant as the ones who had made the discovery of the
flight, and a whoop that came from some point ahead warned the Mohawk
that the passage was not to be as uneventful as he expected. The worst
of it was, the reply heard by all in the canoe came from immediately in
front, so that they had only to keep on in the direction in which they
were going to run straight into ambush. At this time the fugitives were
near the middle of the Susquehanna, the night being so dark that they
were invisible to any upon either shore, and they were hardly liable to
discovery unless some of their enemies should start out upon the river
in quest of them. It was obviously the duty of the Mohawk to hold that
position, and move up or down stream, as might seem best. The whites
supposed he would continue down the current, but, to their surprise, he
headed straight against it, and sped upward with astonishing speed.

CHAPTER XVII.

AT LAST!

Up to that time the fugitives, although steadily drifting down stream,
seemed to keep directly in the way of the parties whom they were seeking
to avoid; for, no matter where they headed, or at what point they aimed,
they were sure to find some of the Iroquois waiting to receive them. It
looked, indeed, as if the redmen were shrewd enough to make allowance
for this fact, judging from the way the attempt turned out in each
instance. It was the purpose of Lena-Wingo, in heading up stream, to
break through this chain that seemed thrown around them, and there
appeared no other way of doing it.

Neither to the right nor left turned he, but swinging his paddle
powerfully and noiselessly, he drove the deeply-laden canoe against the
current with a force that sent the water foaming from the prow, the soft
wash and rustle of the current being the only noise that marked this
bird-like flight. Going at such a rate, he did not