They spoke to each other from tree to tree, and it is possible that they contemplated waiting until night had really set in, when, under cover of the darkness, they could slip down and capture the boat without so much danger of being shot. But Chap was out of all patience with this ridiculous delay. “What’s the good of standing there and hollerin’,” he said, “instead of going down and doing something? The first thing you know those fellows will push the boat off, and get away with her.” “Don’t be ’fraid,” said the Indian who still held him. “We keep eye on ’em. No get ’way.” But Chap’s active mind and body could not be content with talk like this. With a sudden and powerful wrench he broke away from the Indian who was holding him, and, brandishing his club, he rushed out upon the beach. He would show them what to do. If he dashed down upon the boat, the Indians were bound to follow, and the rascals would be overpowered in a second. The moment he appeared upon the beach, three guns were levelled at him, and three nervous fingers trembled upon the triggers. Suddenly Phil, who happened to have the rifle, dropped the muzzle of his piece, and, raising his head, looked boldly out of the cabin window. At the same instant Phœnix’s head popped up from behind the cabin, and Adam sprang to his feet. Then from all three came the single word,-- “Chap!” On hearing his name pronounced by these familiar voices, Chap stopped suddenly and lowered his club. Then, without reflecting that they were exposing themselves to the aim of the ruthless red men, Phil, Adam, and Phœnix sprang from the boat, the two boys in their excitement leaving their guns on board, and rushing toward their stupefied companion. The Indians, seeing their ally thus set upon, were inclined to fire, but, apart from the probability of their hitting Chap, there was something so peculiar in his attitude, and in the actions of those who had rushed upon him, that they forbore. Running down to the group on the beach, they reached it in time to see Chap dancing about, and apparently shaking hands with all three of his friends at once, while myriads of questions, without any answers to balance them, flew wildly about in every direction. The Indians, amazed at this strange scene, stood silently looking on, while Mary Brown, who had been hidden somewhere in the woods, came down and listened with open mouth and eyes. It was at least five minutes before Chap or his friends could get fairly started in an explanation of what had happened. At last, through the rattling noise of question, answer, and exclamation, the stories were straightened out, and everybody, even the Indians, began to understand what had really happened, and how it had come to pass. “Well,” cried Phil, “you ought to be thankful, Chap, for your legs.” “Legs?” said Chap.