The result was highly fortunate for the adventurers. The pursuers had been guided only by the sound of oars, and, when these ceased to be heard distinctly, they paused, assured that the flotilla could not miss the refugees. Of course, the pursuers soon met the others, and instituted inquiries for the run-away boat. As no such object had been seen, the pursuers were placed in a suspicious light, and gladly turned to accompany their friends to the Illinois shore. Meanwhile, Davy and his companions were making the most of every moment. Finding they were not likely to encounter the boat which had kept so closely in their wake, they bent every effort toward making good their escape. Almost before the party were aware of it, they shot in near the eastern shore of the river. Already the full light of the moon fell in gentle floods upon the water. The flotilla was thus fully revealed—every boat being brought out in dark outline upon the smooth surface of the river. Considerable of the eastern side was shadow, rendered even darker by the gentle light falling around. In this broad belt of blackness our friends now lay, concealed from the sharp eyes of the approaching savages. “I tell you, boys,” the scout observed, “if we’d run intew that neest, we’d stood a smart chance of havin’ our ha’r lifted afore this. It’s a lucky move we’ve made, _this_ time, and now we’ll keep down in this ’ere shadder, till we git well out o’ their way.” The party again bent themselves to their tasks, though panting and wearied, keeping the boat well within the deep shadow cast by the forest. They pulled silently down, until the scout, who had taken to the paddle, bent low, and peered across the river. “Near’s I kin make out,” he remarked, “we’re about opposite one o’ the purtiest little hidin’-places that the good Lord ever made. Thar’s a little ’dentation, in the shore, what’s been washed out till it makes the neatest kind of a place. I kin hide a boat thare, so an Injin would step right over it forty times, an’ never think any thing was under him. If we kin git thare, ’twill be jist _the_ place we want!” The canoe was again turned across the Mississippi. The men it contained were still in the best of spirits, for, although they had met with trial and danger, it had only stimulated them to greater exertions. As they reached the opposite shore, the scout ceased paddling, and motioned Charles to do the same. “Blame me, if I kin hardly tell whar’ that place is,” he muttered, half perplexed. “It’s more’n two years since I had occasion tew use it, and may be ’twill bother me some to find it. But it may be of use to us, so I’ll ferret it out.” They floated cautiously down for a few rods, when David uttered a quick exclamation of joy. “There it is!” “Can’t ye diskiver it?” he asked. “I confess,” returned Charles, “that I should never suspect the existence of any hidden retreat here.” The scout laughed, quietly.