Slowly and evenly, as the shadow steals along the face of the dial, did the Mohawk draw the canoe from its resting place on the dark bank of the river. One might have stood and gazed directly at it for ten minutes without suspecting what was going on, it being only when he compared its situation with what it was a short time before that the difference was likely to be noticed. If the Iroquois sentinel should be on the alert for some such strategy on the part of the Mohawk, who was known to all as one of the most cunning of his race, it would seem that the trick was impossible. But there was every reason to hope that he did not suspect it, as his action in returning to his first station after the brief examination, showed, and the Mohawk acted on this belief.

The retrograde movement, once started, was not abated till the boat was drawn clear of the shore and floated free in the water. Then, without shifting its position as regarded the bank itself, the motion was continued down the current, until some eight or a dozen feet were passed. The hopes of Lena-Wingo were high, for the fact that the sentinel had failed to discover what was going on under his very eyes indicated that his suspicions were turned in another direction. Even should he detect the change of position on the part of the boat, there was reason to hope he would attribute it to the action of the current, for the motion of the craft was made to imitate such progression by the cunning Mohawk.

Something like half the distance was accomplished, when Lena-Wingo made a change in his own position. Instead of remaining at the stern of the canoe as he had done before, he changed to the side, so that he could appear at the front or rear the moment the necessity arose. The reason for this step was that he had progressed so far that he was determined there should be no failure. The experiment had in his eyes been an assured success. If the Iroquois should appear and attempt to interfere, Lena-Wingo would meet him half way, and dispose of him for all time to come. Fortunately for the sentinel, he seemed to be unusually obtuse that night, and allowed the daring scheme to be carried out under his very nose, without objection on his part.

The motion of the canoe was not hastened in the least, but continued in the same steady, uninterrupted manner till the point was reached where the fugitives were anxiously awaiting the success of the plan of the scout. The first indication the latter received of what was done, and the approach of the Mohawk, was his cautious "'Sh!" uttered just loud enough to reach their ears. Not one of the three had been able to detect the slightest sound that indicated what the scout was doing, so skillfully had he conducted the whole affair. Ned returned the almost inaudible exclamation to apprise their friend that they were expecting him. A minute later, the Mohawk appeared among them with the silence of a shadow.

"All here?" was his rather curious question.

"All here," replied Ned.

"Boat ready—come along—make no noise."

The four stole forward after the manner of those who knew their lives depended upon perfect silence, and they succeeded in reaching the side of the stream without alarming the sentinel, who still held a position dangerously near the fugitives. Rosa was the first to enter, and she took her place in the extreme end, there being no difference between the bow and stern of such a craft. Immediately after her came Ned, who placed himself as close to her as possible. Then followed the Mohawk, paddle in hand, Jo Minturn locating himself in the prow, so as to give the Mohawk the best position in which to manage the craft, and to "trim ship," as the expression goes.

This was as the red scout wanted matters arranged; and when he grasped the paddle it was with a greater confidence than he had felt at any time during the night. But he had entered upon one of the most perilous attempts conceivable, and he was sure the trick would be detected within the succeeding five minutes. In fact, it was discovered in less than that time; for he had no more than fairly dipped the oar in the water than he heard a low, vibrating whoop from the spot where the Mohawk was stationed. That sound, as Lena-Wingo well knew, meant danger, and was intended as a signal for his companions to hasten to the spot—a signal that was sure to be promptly obeyed when more than a half dozen were on the alert and waiting for just such a call. It was so distinct that the whites accepted it as evidence that their flight was discovered, and pursuit was sure to follow.

Rosa was much frightened, for she felt they had gone so far that they could not return, and it was a question whether they would reach the other side of the river in safety, or be captured on the stream itself, with the probabilities in favor of the latter. Everything depended upon the skill and sagacity of the Mohawk, who showed himself equal to the occasion. At the same instant that the sound mentioned reached his ear, he dipped his paddle deep into the water, and sent the canoe, with one powerful sweep, several rods down the bank, keeping so close to the land that the leaves of the overhanging limbs brushed the heads of the occupants, and compelled them to duck their heads. This done, he allowed the boat to rest, while he listened to learn what his enemies were doing. The sounds that fell upon his ear told him the flight of the boat had been detected, and there could be no doubt that the whole force of Iroquois would be engaged in the hunt in the next few minutes. Without speaking, he dipped the paddle again, and the canoe was driven as far as before down the stream; but, in this instance, he did not permit it to rest, continuing the process until he had gone fully a hundred yards from his starting point. This done, he considered he had reached the point where he could make a change in the direction, and he headed boldly out into the river, aiming for the other shore, which had 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.