CHAPTER V.
GROUND.
The whites on the flat-boat had committed a mistake natural to persons in their situation.
As they waited along shore, in the most painful suspense, the hours wore slowly away, and seemed double their usual length. Thus it happened that at the moment of sweeping out into the current, each believed it to be about three o'clock in the morning, and were looking for the appearance of the moon, when, in reality, it was barely midnight.
Waring and Pat experienced some peculiar sensations, as they toiled at the oar. Knowing that one Indian, at least, had discovered their hiding-place, they had every reason to believe that a whole war-party were aware of it, and so long as the shadowy outline of the shore was discernible, they were in constant expectation of receiving a volley from their invisible foes.
But, as the dark mass of trees blended with the night, and at length faded from their view altogether, they ceased their efforts, and breathed freer.
"Now," said Waring, "I don't care how soon the moon shows itself. With all the windings and islands, we need light to see the way."
"If you have no objection, I should like to inquire how soon do you expect the moon to rise?"
"Why, right away—that is, within a few minutes."
"So it seems it ought to do: but, Waring, don't you know how much longer time seems to persons in our circumstances, than it does as other times. I know when I used to court Jemima Hopkins, after ten o'clock, the hour didn't seem more than ten minutes long; and then again, when I had to sit up in the winter, and keep the wolves out of the sheep-pen, every hour seemed a month long. Now, Waring, I don't want to hurt your feelings—it may be three o'clock in the morning, but I don't believe it."
"I know how apt we are to miscalculate time on such occasions, and I have tried to make allowance for it. With all that allowance made, it strikes me that the moon must be in the horizon by this time."
"I hope it is so; but the best thing we can do, is to calk'late as how it ain't agwine to be there for some hours yet and making our arrangements accordingly. Eh, Waring?"
"You are right, I admit. In fact, we can do nothing else. We are going it blind now—knowing only that we are going down the Ohio."
"Do you think, that is, if you have no objection to tell, do you think that these Indians will try the same method of attacking us?"
"It is not to be supposed they will, unless their party is large enough to insure them victory. Nevertheless, we must be on the lookout for their devilments. I say, Pat, ahead there, don't forget to keep a sharp lookout for mischief."
"Aye, aye, that I will, barring it isn't possible to look out at all. Be the Hooly Virgin! I see something now, sure."
Hezekiah was at his side in an instant. Looking ahead, he saw a dark mass looming up in the darkness directly before them, as if it was approaching.
"It's one of them islands," he exclaimed. "The all-fired thing is afloat, and is running into us. Quick, Waring, the oar."
As he spoke, he and Pat seized the sweep of the oar, and commenced using it with all their energy. Close as they were upon the land, they would have cleared it, had they not, in their hurry and excitement, committed the blunder of working against each other; that is, while Pat and Hezekiah did their utmost to veer the boat toward the Ohio shore, Waring struggled to clear the island by going on the Kentucky side. The consequence of these efforts was, that ere they had taken a dozen strokes, the flat-boat grated upon the gravelly bottom, and went broad side upon the island.
As the current was quite rapid at this portion of the river the raft was driven with such force upon the beach that Waring saw at once that it would be impossible to get it off again, unless it was lighted of its entire load. Springing down upon the island, he took a hasty survey of its situation, so far as the darkness would permit, and as Hezekiah and Pat joined him, mentioning the plan that we have stated, he said—
"There is no other help for it, and we must make quick work of it. The moon at the very farthest will be up in twenty minutes, and it won't do for any of the savages to discover us, but, to get off, it will be necessary for your father to come ashore. Is he awake?"
"Yes," said Virginia, who arose upon hearing the bottom of the boat grating upon the gravel, "and will be here in a moment."
Virginia was assisted to descend by her lover, and a moment later her father followed her. The other three men instantly set to work, and in ten minutes the boat was sufficiently lightened to make the attempt to get it afloat again. By the united efforts of the three it was shoved out into deep water, where, to their dismay, they saw it commence settling down, as though it were sinking.
"Begorrah! but what does that mane?" cried Pat, in astonishment.
"Hark! if I ain't mistaken, I hear the water rushing in its bottom."
With one bound, Waring sprang upon the gunwale, and descended into the cabin. One glance was sufficient. An immense hole had been stove in by the concussion, and a foot of water was already in the cabin. The flat-boat was now going down, and there was no hope of saving it.
With rare presence of mind, Waring leaped back into the water, and attempted to shove the boat far enough away to make it sink out of sight when it did go down, it being his wish that the Indians should discover nothing of their mishap when the moon arose, or in the morning. But in this he did not succeed. He had hardly touched his shoulder to it when he felt that it had already touched bottom, the water being scarcely eighteen inches deep—so low, in fact, that no one viewing it from the shore, would suspect its true condition.
"This is a little more than I suspected," said Waring, gloomily, as he stepped ashore. "That rotten old flat-boat will never do us one bit of good, with such a hole smashed in it."
"Can it not be repaired in the morning?" asked Mr. Lander, who seemed affected as little by adverse as by favorable circumstances.
"Repaired? no, we should never have ventured out on the river, in such an old hulk as that. But it can't be helped now; we must make the best of a bad bargain. When the moon rises, we'll get an idea of our situation."
"It may be," said Hezekiah, hoping to encourage Virginia, "that this island is near enough for us to wade to the main land."
"Suppose it is, what good will it do us?" asked Waring.
"Why, as the settlement can't be more than a dozen miles distant, if you have no objection, we might walk the rest of the way through the woods."
"If we could only get the boat afloat again, or make it sink out of sight; but there's the trouble. However, there's no use of crying for spilt milk. Can you propose nothing for us to do, Pat?"
"I propowses to wait till we get some more light, and then we'll take a luk at things."
"And in the meantime let us make ourselves as comfortable as the circumstances will permit," added Mr. Lander, philosophically.
It being a warm summer night, the whites suffered little or no personal inconvenience from their exposed situation. It was found that this portion of the island, at least, was covered with trees and rank undergrowth, which protected them from the night wind, slight as it was. To make matters in that respect sure, however, Mr. Lander proposed that a fire should be started, but when he found what a storm of objection he had raised, he said no more upon that subject.
There being nothing else for them to do, then, the whites withdrew within the trees, and seating themselves upon the ground, waited the advent of the moon, which from some unaccountable cause to them, was so long delayed.