It seemed impossible, however, that the canoe and its living freight could get through the rapids intact. The water boiled madly about the craft. It was flung hither and yon, and at times it was so racked by the opposing forces of the current that Buffalo Bill, on the bank, could hear the wood crack. Boyd Bennett’s glaring eyes did not turn toward his enemy throughout all this trial. He watched each black-ribbed rock or floating snag against which his craft might be hurled. Nor did he speak a word to the girl lying in the bottom of the canoe. She knew as well as he that any movement on her part would add to their danger, and, although she might now leap overboard--she was free--it would mean certain death. So freedom tantalized her. She could only escape at the peril of her life! She saw Boyd Bennett’s glowing eyes occasionally cast upon her a basilisklike glance. There was madness in them, she knew. The brave girl, used as she was to battle and the chase, shrank from this terrible foe. And she was helpless! The canoe swung around rocks, which she thought surely they must hit; it just escaped collision with logs and drift-stuff in the most marvelous manner, and all the time Boyd Bennett sat holding the paddle as a steering-oar, his black eyes glaring out of his death’s-head face, impassive, yet all alive to the dangers of the run. Spray broke over the side of the canoe and drenched the girl. The craft seemed to fairly throb and jump with the motion of the water. Once an eddy seized them. Despite all Bennett could do the canoe shot into this whirlpool, and they made several rapid revolutions before the man saw his way out, and thrust the canoe between two ragged jaws of rock, and so escaped! On and on fled the boat, while Buffalo Bill urged his mount along the river path. He could barely keep up with it. Each moment he expected to see it overturned, and both passengers tumbled into the raging current. At last the more quiet river below the rapids came into view. Here the stream widened and the current quickly became sluggish. In the midst of the stream was a wooded island, its sharp upper end, consisting of an outcropping ledge, dividing the river into two channels just at the foot of the white water. The canoe, as it shot out of the smother of spray, chanced to take the channel nearest to the bank on which Cody urged his horse. This was an oversight on Bennett’s part, but he had been too anxious to get out of the rapids at all to attend to where the canoe finally went. Cody saw his chance, and, although Chief was well winded now, he yelled with delight. He saw what appeared to be the finish of the race--and in his favor. “I’ve got you now, Boyd Bennett!” he shouted. The bandit at last turned his eyes upon him, and then glanced around. He saw Cody’s meaning. The canoe was drifting so near the scout that the latter could either shoot, or rope him. And the long island forbade his getting away.