ong withdraw my own
anxious gaze from that north bank, until we rounded the bend in the
stream, and were safely removed from view of any one below. I was able
to mark no sign of life along the ridge, my faith reviving that the
Spanish sailors yet slept soundly, while as to their irate commander, I
had trussed him with a thoroughness which left me confident. Feeling
reassured I finally yielded to Eloise's entreaties, laying bare my
breast and permitting Madame to wash away the clotted blood and apply
such bandages as might easily be procured. She was extremely gentle
about it; but I marvelled somewhat at the trembling of her white
fingers and the pallor of her face, for it was not a bad wound, De
Noyan hesitating not to make light of it, although he acknowledged it
was a strong wrist which drove the tuck in. Anyway, what with the
reaction and the loss of blood, I lay back quite spent, telling over
briefly those incidents that had occurred to me while they slept.

"And now," I said, addressing the Puritan, who was seated at the
bow-oar, where I could see nothing of him except the bobbing of his red
crop, "how do you know this stream makes a circuit and approaches the
mouth of the Ohio? It beareth a little to the west of north here."

"It was the Spanish captain camping here as I passed down," he
answered, speaking abominably through his nose. "They called him
Castellane, a little fellow, with pop-eyes, who pretended to light his
pipe from my hair. He pointed it out upon a map some black-frocked
papist had drawn. It was plain enough to the eye, but 'tis likely they
lied, for they were all spawns of Satan."

"True or false," I commented coolly, "we seem likely to find out. I
have also heard somewhere--no doubt in the Illinois country--about a
northern trend to this stream, and one thing is certain, there is no
hope for us otherwise; there can be no running those guard-lines back
yonder."

"Do you mean we push on up this river?" broke in De Noyan, who had
managed to make something out of our conversation, especially as the
Puritan illustrated his knowledge by rudely tracing with a stumped
forefinger a map on the board where he sat. "_Sacre_! 'tis the
dirtiest red slough ever I navigated. Why not try the other thing? A
brush with those gentlemen below would be more to my taste."

"Ay, Master Benteen," boomed Cairnes with pious emphasis, reading the
meaning of the other through his French gestures. "Methinks