CHAPTER X.
A MIDNIGHT BURIAL.
Frank and Walter’s captors advanced toward the canoe in which Flick O’Flynn sat, and great was the Irishman’s relief when he saw that they did not penetrate his disguise.
For several moments the deaf and dumb Indian capered around the two young men, hoping to give them a signal, but unfortunately for him, in cutting these pranks, Walter gave him a kick in the stomach that fairly doubled him on the beach.
Presently one of the savages motioned for his supposed deaf and dumb comrade to take a seat in the stern of the canoe, which he accordingly did with a jump.
The captives were then placed on the seat next to him, facing the same way. Two of the savages with tomahawks seated themselves facing the captives, while the other two took up the paddles.
“Holy Vargin!” muttered the Irishman to himself, as the canoe shot out, “what if wees overtake the canoe with the rhale Mr. Lo into it? I niver thought of that—wirra!”
And this they were quite likely to do, for they moved rapidly down the stream; however, Flick O’Flynn was not long in making mental preparations for the emergency that was sure to come, and which did come sooner than he thought for.
In less than half an hour the canoe rounded an abrupt bend in the stream, and but a few rods in advance of them Flick saw the Indian that he had sent adrift sitting up in the canoe and gesticulating in an excited manner with one hand, while with the other he was trying to paddle the little craft up the stream. Quick as a flash Flick arose to his feet and pointed in an excited manner toward the savage. The two guards turned quickly around to see what the mute wished to call their attention to; and at that instant the Irishman drew his shillalah from under his coat, and, reaching forward over the captives’ heads, dealt the savages a blow on the head that sent them heels over head into the Medicine Bow. And then he uttered a yell, and springing over the captives’ heads, served the two oarsmen a blow on the head that caused them to release their hold on the oars and sink down quietly and unconscious at his feet.
“Ay, now,” exclaimed the supposed mute Indian, turning to the wondering captives; “it was a lick on the head wid me shillalah that made mees known to the rhed bla’guards, and shill mees make meeself known to yees blind jackasses the same?”
“Flick, as I’m a confounded fool!” exclaimed Frank.
“And it’s a purty mess yees hev got into,” said the Irishman, cutting their bonds.
In the mean time, the real mute Indian had succeeded in reaching the shore and making his escape.
Flick now pitched the two unconscious oarsman out into the water, and taking the paddle sent the craft flying down the stream.
In a few minutes an island densely covered with timber was reached and the party landed and drew the canoe up on the beach.
The trio did not strike a fire for fear of attracting the attention of the Indians, should any be lurking in the vicinity; and so they were compelled to go without supper.
Seating themselves in the shadow of the undergrowth, where they could not be seen, they entered into conversation, but this was soon interrupted by the sound of paddles.
Rising to their feet and looking up-stream, they discovered a canoe containing four men coming down toward the island.
They listened and discovered they were whites, but not feeling free to make known their presence until they ascertained whether they were friends or foes, or whether they were going to land on the island or not, they took their weapons and climbed up a large tree that stood in the center of the island and concealed themselves among the thick boughs where they could command a view of the canoe and its occupants.
The canoe landed in a few moments, and then came an exclamation:
“Hullo, boys! here’s a canoe, and what if sum ’un is onter the island?”
“Heavens!” exclaimed another, in a tone of fear, “s’pose you go look ’round an’ see.”
“S’pose you go to the devil, Phil Graball!” replied the first speaker; “do you think thet Eebenezer Frogfoot’s goin’ to be a fool and venter out thar alone and git my carcass riddled with bullets? No, sir-ee, you can’t come thet game.”
“Ye would if ye wer’n’t a coward,” returned Graball.
“Humph! I’ll bet all the gold in the—the hills thet you’re afeard ter walk ’round this ’ere island onc’t,” said the important Ebenezer Frogfoot.
“Ay, now,” whispered Flick O’Flynn, “they’re robbers as mees is a born Irishman.”
“And cowards, too,” added Walter.
“Yes, but keep still; they may do or say something to our benefit,” said Frank.
And so they listened and watched.
The matter of scouting the island was finally settled by all agreeing to go in a body.
So the four brave men got themselves into line and began beating around through the brush, but they found nothing.
“No one here, thank fortune,” said one of the robbers; “that canoe has drifted there sometime ’r other.”
“Then let’s bring it ashore,” said another, whereupon they all returned to the canoe.
One of their number now lit a lantern, which sent a red beam of light across the island. Two of the men then took up a dark object from the canoe, and following the one with the lantern, advanced toward the interior of the island.
“Here’s the spot,” said the robber with the light, stopping directly under the tree in which our friends were ensconced.
The two with the burden advanced and placed it on the ground at the foot of the tree.
Our friends started with a shudder at what they saw.
It was a beautiful, silver-mounted coffin!