day after day we descended the broadening river. once a floating snag ripped our bottom out, and we swam to shore, pushing the sodden craft ahead of us. tawannears cut bark strips, melted pitch i collected from the pine trees, and salvaged the sinews of a deer he shot with the bow and arrow he carried for hunting game. with these he mended the hole and made it water-tight, and after two days' delay we continued our journey, thankful to have escaped attack whilst we tarried in this situation, for our spare powder had been wetted.

treacherous channels and difficult portages hindered us further, but each day saw some advance to our credit, and at last we came to the place which tawannears called the meeting of the waters. we were swept by a rapid current around the shoulder of a point just before sunset, and there opened before us two other watery prospects. at our left another stream, the monongahela, poured in from the south to join its flow with the allegheny, and the two united to form the great ohio.

'twas a matchless situation. north, south and west ran the three rivers, roads already laid to tap the resources of the wilderness. at their confluence was the ideal site for the erection of a fortress to command their courses and dominate the wilderness for miles around. indeed, i remember long years afterward—i think it was in the year '60—young colonel washington of virginia, when he was in new york in attendance on general amherst, told me 'twas here the great french general montcalm settled to build fort duquesne, which was one of the causes of the last struggle for the wilderness land. i remember, too, he said in his grave, simple way, that it should yet be the site of a prosperous town.

we camped that night on the point, the murmur of the waters in spring freshet loud in our ears, and in the morning we allowed our canoe to be carried into the brawling current of the ohio. so swift flowed this mighty stream that we had no necessity to use our paddles, save to guide the canoe from rocks and maintain it in the safest channel. we traveled as far that day as we often had in two days on the allegheny's more tortuous reaches. but there came days when we must be at pains to avoid hidden dangers; when the waters foamed with rocks and submerged bars, and immense trees were hurled along like battering-rams to sink the over-confident. sometimes we were fain to avoid over-dangerous bits, and stumbled along the shore-line in shallow water, the canoe on our shoulders.

i marveled that we saw so little human life. occasionally a canoe would dart into the bank at sight of our approach, its occupant seeking shelter in the undergrowth. twice an attempt was made by other canoes to overhaul us, but i was able now to lend my arms to assist tawannears and peter, and we left the pursuers far behind. again, where the scioto falls into the ohio from the north, we encountered a party of miamis bound south on an impartial hunt for scalps and buffalo robes. they knew tawannears, and treated us with all respect. but for the most part the river flowed undisturbed on its majestic way to mingle with the father of waters.

for days and days we saw no other men. not even a spiral of smoke rose from the dark forests that marched unbroken down to the shelving banks or the bluffs and hills that elsewhere rimmed the channel.

then, without warning, came the attack.

the stream had narrowed between low banks, and a riffle of rocks on the north side compelled us to follow the southern margin.

a shot boomed from the southern bank, and i heard it whistle by my head. other shots echoed it. we all looked around. puffs of smoke were blowing from the underbrush. the shrill howl of the warwhoop soared in quavering accents above the babble of the river. painted men, feathers raking from their half-shaven heads, broke cover and ran along after us, firing and yelling. two long canoes shoved off from the bank, and churned the water with four paddles apiece. in the bow of each knelt a savage whose one object was to shoot us down. bullets phutted through the frail bark sides of the canoe and splashed the water all around us.

"shawnees!" exclaimed tawannears. "for your lives, brothers!"

we drove our paddles into the water, but our handicap was that we could not veer more than just so far toward the northern bank until we had passed the string of rocks that barred it. we were still some distance above the termination of the obstruction when a jagged slug of lead tore into the canoe between tawannears and me, glanced from a hickory thwart, and sliced a long, curving slit in the side below the water-line; i dropped my paddle, and clutched the lips of the cut with both hands, one outside and one inside the canoe, striving to hold them together as best i could. the water trickled in, of course, and as the canoe sank under its growing weight it became increasingly difficult to control the leak; but at least we were able to make some progress.

"good, brother!" panted tawannears, seeing what i was doing. "a few feet more!"

the shawnees howled with satisfaction as they perceived our plight. their canoes shot after us at twice our speed, and some of the warriors on the southern bank plunged into the river where it was narrowest, and swam for the rock-ledge, whence they could wade to the northern bank. but tawannears and corlaer kept us afloat until we were almost past the rock-ledge. 'twas i saw the wavelet that would swamp us, and i shouted a warning to the others. we held powder-horns and rifles aloft and sprang for the nearest rocks.

i went head under and barely saved my powder from a second wetting. tawannears and peter found footing at once, and the huge dutchman helped me up beside them. then we stumbled through the water as fast as the hazardous rocks permitted, zigzagging and stooping low to disconcert the enemies who fired on us from the opposite bank and the two canoes, which drove on downstream to seek a favorable landing-place. the shawnees who had undertaken to swim the river were already ashore several hundred yards upstream and running towards us along the bank, and it was at them that we fired as soon as we had gained the first trees of the forest.

we were panting from our efforts, but tawannears hit a man in the leg. corlaer drilled his target through the chest. i missed. but our firing had the effect of confusing the pursuit. instead of charging in the open, they dived into the forest in an attempt to work down on us from behind. but we sensed their purpose, and tarried only long enough to reload. with tawannears in the lead, we set off northward, making no attempt to conceal our trail, for we had no time for niceties. the whoops of the swimmers could be heard on our right rear, and answering calls came from the warriors who had debarked from the canoes on our left. through the tree-trunks we could see some ten or a dozen more taking to the water from the south bank.

fortunately, the forest hereabouts was a wondrous primeval growth of tall-stemmed, widely-spaced trunks. there was little underbrush, and the ground was carpeted with a deep, springy layer of vegetable mould, the easiest footing for a runner. the light was sifted high overhead by the interlacing boughs, and it was impossible to see distinctly at any distance. the odds seemed reasonably in our favor, despite the continuous whooping at our heels, and i was amazed when tawannears came to an abrupt halt after we had run a scant half-hour.

"they will be scattered," he said in explanation to my look of inquiry. "we will teach them that they are not dealing with young deer-hunters like themselves. do you run on a score of strides, otetiani, and corlaer as many more. i will fire when i see a target, and flee. then you will each fire in turn, and run. that way the two in the rear will have had time to reload. come, brothers, we will scotch these young men who think our scalps as easy to take as a deer's antlers."

corlaer grunted approval, and we two held to our course. i halted behind a great oak from which i could barely discern the figure of tawannears lurking behind an uprooted elm. five minutes passed. the yelping of our enemies had died away. young hounds they might be, but it was in their blood to save breath once they had their noses on a green trail. suddenly, i saw a stab of flame in the gloom, and tawannears darted toward me, musket in hand. the crash of his shot was followed by a yelp of agony, and once more the silence of the forest reëchoed the eerie war-whoop.

"watch carefully, brother," the seneca muttered as he loped past.

i lifted my musket and waited, eyes darting right and left, striving to pierce the depths of the shadow-world that was unflecked by a single ray of sunlight. i stared so long that my eye muscles wearied, and the lids blinked. i closed them for a moment's rest, and when i reopened them the first thing i was conscious of seeing was a shadow darker than the shadows, that flitted between two tree-trunks on my left. he was so close that i thought i must have been deceived, but whilst i watched he showed again, and i made out the slanting feather above his crouching form. i aimed a good foot below the feather, and pulled trigger. the shawnee leaped high in air, with a throttled cry, and pitched forward on his face. i ran.

"goodt," murmured corlaer, huddled behind a boulder that showed moss-covered amongst the timber.

i sped on, and halted only when tawannears' low voice reached my ears.

"reload," he said briefly. "we must run again when corlaer comes. the dogs are swifter than i thought. hear them!"

he inclined his ear to the left rear, and i heard distinctly the interchange of signal-yells, once even a distant crashing of branches. the shawnees were working around in an attempt to head us off. i was relieved when corlaer'a musket boomed, and the dutchman's huge body bounded into view. he ran as lightly as he did everything else. the man was a swift runner who could keep up with him.

"now, speed, brothers," said tawannears. "the next effort tells."

we ran as i had seldom run before, not fast and slow, but faster and ever faster, with every ounce of strength and wind. the yelps of the shawnees died away behind us again, and i think we had distanced them when we emerged from the forest gloom into a belt of sunshine several miles wide. one of those awful wind-storms, to which the new world is exposed, had come this way, and wreaked its curious spite by striking down everything in its immediate front. as clean as a knife-blade it had hewed its path, leaving miles of prostrate timber where formerly had been a lordly forest. and across this natural abattis we must make our way in the open!

there was nothing else for it, and we plunged in, climbing in and out of the wreckage, seldom able to go faster than a walk. we were a scant musket-shot from the forest edge when the shawnees appeared and howled their glee. they could not gain on us, but they were uncomfortably close as we entered the standing timber on the far side of the dead-fall; and we knew that we could not run much farther. my eyes were starting from my head as we dipped into a shallow glade that was threaded by a deep and narrow stream. boulders dotted its course. ten yards away an immense tulip-tree overhung it.

i flung myself down for a quick drink, thinking to hurry on. but on regaining my feet i saw tawannears in close debate with corlaer. the dutchman nodded his head, and dropped into the water, which was up to his middle. i made to follow him, but tawannears motioned me to hold my position, peering the while at our back-trail, alert for a sign of our enemies. i stared from him to corlaer in growing amazement. the dutchman clambered up the opposite bank and tramped heavily to a series of stones and small boulders. he planted his wet, muddy moccasins on the first stones, then carefully walked backward in his own footsteps into the river and recrossed to our side.

"come," said tawannears, and he dropped into the river-bed besides corlaer.

perforce, i followed suit, wondering what mad scheme they were up to.

the seneca led us downstream into the shadow of the tulip-tree. here the creek overran a flat stone, which came just to water-level. tawannears stepped onto it, handed his musket to me, caught hold of a low tree-branch and in a trice had swung himself onto the limb. i reached him our three guns, and whilst he worked back toward the trunk, holding them under one arm, i scrambled up beside him. corlaer came after me, his weight bearing the limb down almost to the water's surface, so that for an instant i thought it must break. but the resilient wood upheld him, and we all three gained the crotch of the fifteen-foot bole. there was ample room, and the thick leafage gave us cover as we settled ourselves to see what the shawnees would make of the lure we had set for them.

nothing happened for so long that i wondered whether they had seen through the ruse, and were plotting to catch us in our lair. but presently a feathered head was advanced from the low-growing foliage of the bank and studied the footprints corlaer had trampled on the farther bank. a fierce painted face was turned toward us momentarily. then the lean body, clad only in breachclout and moccasins, slipped into the water without a ripple and waded across. the shawnee crept up the bank until he came to the prints of the dutchman's wet feet on the stones. at that he turned, with a quick gesture of command, and a string of savage figures dodged after him. we counted thirty-one, most of them armed with muskets. they disappeared into the woods on the opposite bank at a fast dog-trot.

tawannears dropped from the tulip-tree without a word.

"where now?" i asked.

he smiled. never let anyone tell you the indian has no sense of humor.

"why, we need a new canoe, brother; and the shawnees have left two waiting for us on the river-shore."

behind us corlaer gave vent to a squeak of laughter.

"ja, we put der choke on dem deer-hunters! haw!"

we retraced our steps as rapidly as we had come, and because we now knew the way, we were able to cross the area of fallen timber in half the time we had taken formerly. but we were still within musket-shot of the forest-edge when the war-whoop resounded behind us, and a dozen shawnees broke from cover.

"they are good warriors," approved tawannears. "when they failed to pick up our trail again beyond the boulders they turned back."

"shall we wait to welcome them?" i suggested.

"no, brother. we have nothing to gain by killing them. we need a canoe, not scalps."

so we ran on toward the river, although how tawannears so unerringly picked his way i cannot say. 'twas not so much that he knew the direction of the river. i could have done as much. but rather that he knew by instinct the shortest, most direct route to follow. we burst from the forest's edge a half-musket shot from where the canoes of the shawnees were beached. two men who had been left on guard over them, one the warrior tawannears had shot in the leg in our first brush, rose to welcome us, at first, no doubt, thinking us to be their friends. but when they saw who we were they raised their bows and loosed a brace of arrows at us. corlaer shot the wounded man offhand, and tawannears bounded in to close quarters and brained the other with his tomahawk.

"ha-yah-yak-eeeee-eeee-eee-ee-e!"

the scalp-yell of the iroquois rolled from shore to shore with the dreadful, shrill vehemence of the catamount's bawl. a defiant answer came from our shawnee pursuers not so far behind us. tawannears stuffed his victim's scalp into his waist-belt, and flailed the bottom out of one of the canoes with his bloody tomahawk, then shoved the ruined craft out into the stream to sink.

"ready, brothers," he called, pushing the undamaged canoe afloat. "we must be beyond musket-shot when the shawnees reach here. ha, their hearts will be very sad. there will be sorrow in their lodges. but they have learned that a band of deer-hunters cannot overcome three warriors who are wily in the chase."

we bent to the paddles, and drove the clumsy craft—'twas much heavier than the one we had lost—out into the current, where we might have the benefit of the river's drift. and, fortunately, we were a long shot distant when the first shawnees reached the bank. several of their bullets splashed close to us, but they soon abandoned the waste of powder, and we could hear the ululating howls by which they sought to recall their absent warriors and announce our escape.

nightfall found us many miles downstream, but tawannears would not suffer us to halt. wet to the bone with sweat and river-water, we paddled on with weary arms that ached, eyes straining into the darkness to ward against rock or floating tree-branch. near midnight the moon rose, and we could see the channel distinctly; but this was another reason for haste, and we did not rest until the gray dawn light revealed a sandy, brush-covered islet in midstream. here we beached the canoe, hauled it out of sight, and lay down beside it to sleep like dead men under the warmth of the sun.