How Canada Was Won: A Tale of Wolfe and QuebecBrereton, F. S. (Frederick Sadleir)
History
How Canada Was Won: A Tale of Wolfe and Quebec
Brereton, F. S. (Frederick Sadleir)
United States -- History -- French and Indian War, 1754-1763 -- Juvenile fiction
"Jupiter! That's a find," burst out Jim, while Tom and Mac nodded
approvingly. "Reckon we'll git across to them boats and break 'em up.
Boys, that air our ticket."
He plunged his paddle into the water, followed by the others, and
would have swung the canoe round had not Steve still clung to the side.
"One moment, Jim," he said easily and quietly, for he had inherited
his father's quiet and judicial manner. "Supposing you smash their
canoes. What then?"
Jim gasped. "What then! Why, they're fixed, young 'un. Thought you was
'cute. They ain't got no way left of followin', unless they runs like
dogs along the bank, and for that we don't care nothin'."
"That is, supposing they have no other canoes," answered Steve
quickly. "But is that likely. They know that if their boats are
discovered they are helpless. It seems to me that they may very well
have divided them. That's what we should do. In that case they would
still have a chance of reaching us."
"That 'ere lad air doin' his best to get even with the Judge,"
exclaimed Jim with a shake of his head. "Reckon, boys, that what he
says air true as gospel. Them critters will never have put all their
boats in one place. We'd best make for the forest straight."
Once more he would have swung the canoe away from Steve, but the lad
still clung to the side.
"We might try a surprise," he said eagerly. "These men will follow us
right away to the settlement, for Jules Lapon lives near there. We
can't go on like this for the next ten days, and if we don't stop them
they will be close to us before to-day is past. Let us wait and have
it out with the rascals."
This time there was no attempt to break away from him. All stared
eagerly into his sun-tanned face, while an exclamation burst from Jim.
"The boy has an idea," said Tom. "Out with it, Steve."
There was no time to waste, for even as they had hung in the stream,
drifting with the current, the mist had lifted still further. The sun
would be up very soon, and at any moment it might be clear from shore
to shore. Steve leaned over the side of his canoe and spoke swiftly
and in little more than a whisper.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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