wo hours
before sunrise, and, finding another shallow cove, drew their boat into
it among the bushes.

"Now for a sleep," said Henry. "Tom and I will keep watch until noon and
then Sol and Paul will take our places. At night we will start again."

"And where does my watch come, pray?" asked Mr. Pennypacker.

"We want you to help us to-night," replied Henry. "We'll need your
knowledge of the sail and the oars."

"Very well," replied the unsuspicious schoolmaster. "It is understood
that I do extra work to-night, because I do not watch to-day."

Henry, when he turned his face away, smiled a little. It was understood
among them all that they were to spare the schoolmaster as much as
possible, and to do so, they used various little devices. Theirs was a
good roomy boat and those who were to sleep first disposed themselves
comfortably, while Henry sat in the prow and Tom in the stern, both
silent and apparently listless, but watching with eyes and ears alike.
The dawn came, and, as they had foreseen, it was a bright, hot day. It
was so close among the bushes that the sleepers stirred restlessly and
beads of perspiration stood on the faces of the watchers. Not a breath
of air stirred either in the woods or on the river. Henry was glad when
it was their turn to sleep, and when he awoke, night had come with its
cool shadows and a wind also that dispelled the breathless heat.

Then they pulled out of the bushes and floated again with the stream,
but they did not hoist their sail. The air after the close heat of the
day was charged with electricity, and they looked for a storm. It came
about 11 o'clock, chiefly as a display of thunder and lightning. The
flashes of electricity dazzled them and continued without a break for
almost an hour. The roar of the thunder was like the unbroken discharges
of great batteries, but both wind and rain were light. Several times the
lightning struck with a tremendous crash in the woods about them, but
the boat glided on untouched. About midnight they came out into the
flood of the Ohio, and, setting their sail, they steered down the center
of the stream.

All of them felt great relief, now that they were on the wide Ohio. On
the narrower tributary they might have been fired upon from either
shore, but the Ohio was a half mile and sometimes a full mile from bank
to bank. As long as they kept in the middle of the stream they were
practically safe from the bullets of ambushed Indians.

They t