"Keep well up the current, Jasper," shouted the gallant guide, as he swept the water with long, steady, vigorous strokes of the paddle; "keep well up the current, and pull for the alder bushes opposite.Presarve the Sergeant's daughter before all things, and leave these Mingo knaves to the Sarpent and me."Jasper flourished his paddle as a signal of understand-ing, while shot succeeded shot in quick succession, all now being aimed at the solitary man in the nearest canoe.
"Ay, empty your rifles like simpletons as you are," said the Pathfinder, who had acquired a habit of speaking when alone, from passing so much of his time in the solitude of the forest; "empty your rifles with an unsteady aim, and give me time to put yard upon yard of river between us.
I will not revile you like a Delaware or a Mohican; for my gifts are a white man's gifts, and not an Indian's; and boasting in battle is no part of a Christian warrior; but Imay say here, all alone by myself, that you are little better than so many men from the town shooting at robins in the orchards.That was well meant," throwing back his head, as a rifle bullet cut a lock of hair from his temple;"but the lead that misses by an inch is as useless as the lead that never quits the barrel.Bravely done, Jasper!
the Sergeant's sweet child must be saved, even if we go in without our own scalps."By this time the Pathfinder was in the centre of the river, and almost abreast of his enemies, while the other canoe, impelled by the vigorous arms of Cap and Jasper, had nearly gained the opposite shore at the precise spot that had been pointed out to them.The old mariner now played his part manfully; for he was on his proper ele-ment, loved his niece sincerely, had a proper regard for his own person, and was not unused to fire, though his experience certainly lay in a very different species of warfare.A few strokes of the paddles were given, and the canoe shot into the bushes, Mabel was hurried to land by Jasper, and for the present all three of the fugitives were safe.
Not so with the Pathfinder: his hardy self-devotion had brought him into a situation of unusual exposure, the hazards of which were much increased by the fact that, just as he drifted nearest to the enemy the party on the shore rushed down the bank and joined their friends who still stood in the water.The Oswego was about a cable's length in width at this point, and, the canoe being in the centre, the object was only a hundred yards from the rifles that were constantly discharged at it; or, at the usual target distance for that weapon.
In this extremity the steadiness and skill of the Path-finder did him good service.He knew that his safety de-pended altogether on keeping in motion; for a stationary object at that distance, would have been hit nearly every shot.Nor was motion of itself sufficient; for, accustomed to kill the bounding deer, his enemies probably knew how to vary the line of aim so as to strike him, should he con-tinue to move in any one direction.He was consequently compelled to change the course of the canoe, -- at one mo-ment shooting down with the current, with the swiftness of an arrow; and at the next checking its progress in that direction, to glance athwart the stream.Luckily the Iroquois could not reload their pieces in the water, and the bushes that everywhere fringed the shore rendered it diffi-cult to keep the fugitive in view when on the land.Aided by these circumstances, and having received the fire of all his foes, the Pathfinder was gaining fast in distance, both downwards and across the current, when a new danger suddenly, if not unexpectedly, presented itself, by the ap-pearance of the party that had been left in ambush below with a view to watch the river.
These were the savages alluded to in the short dialogue already related.They were no less than ten in number;and, understanding all the advantages of their bloody oc-cupation, they had posted themselves at a spot where the water dashed among rocks and over shallows, in a way to form a rapid which, in the language of the country, is called a rift.The Pathfinder saw that, if he entered this rift, he should be compelled to approach a point where the Iroquois had posted themselves, for the current was irre-sistible, and the rocks allowed no other safe passage, while death or captivity would be the probable result of the attempt.All his efforts, therefore, were turned toward reaching the western shore, the foe being all on the eastern side of the river; but the exploit surpassed human power, and to attempt to stem the stream would at once have so far diminished the motion of the canoe as to render aim certain.In this exigency the guide came to a decision with his usual cool promptitude, making his preparations accordingly.Instead of endeavoring to gain the channel, he steered towards the shallowest part of the stream, on reaching which he seized his rifle and pack, leaped into the water, and began to wade from rock to rock, taking the direction of the western shore.The canoe whirled about in the furious current, now rolling over some slip-pery stone, now filling, and then emptying itself, until it lodged on the shore, within a few yards of the spot where the Iroquois had posted themselves.
In the meanwhile the Pathfinder was far from being out of danger; for the first minute, admiration of his prompti-tude and daring, which are so high virtues in the mind of an Indian, kept his enemies motionless; but the desire of revenge, and the cravings for the much-prized trophy, soon overcame this transient feeling, and aroused them from their stupor.Rifle flashed after rifle, and the bullets whistled around the head of the fugitive, amid the roar of the waters.Still he proceeded like one who bore a charmed life; for, while his rude frontier garments were more than once cut, his skin was not razed.
