“Nater made the place rayther secure,” he said; “and, if yer young eyes don’t suspect it, I guess there’s little danger o’ the red-skins spyin’ it out.” Turning the head of the canoe shoreward, David carefully parted the bushes with his oar, and a dark retreat was revealed. With little effort, the canoe was pushed within the haven; the bushes closed behind them, effectually securing them from observation. Charles and Alfred glanced around, in the endeavour to discover the extent and surroundings of the place. The effort was futile. Overhanging masses of bushes shut out all rays of light, leaving the place clothed in deepest darkness. The scout seemed perfectly at home. Turning the head of the canoe to the right, he gave a vigorous push, and, as the bottom of the boat struck the shore, grasped his rifle and leaped forth. As soon as the brothers could determine upon his whereabouts, they followed. “Remove the paddles,” he said, cheerily, “and then we will attend to hidin’ the canoe!” This was done, when the scout set about concealing the craft. Rocking it, until partially filled with water, he stepped into the river, and, with a strong motion, pushed it completely beneath the overhanging bank. It wedged in firmly, and, securing the oars, David once more stood upon the bank. “I call this good fortin’!” he commenced, as they left the place. “We’re acrost the Missippy, the canoe stowed away, an’ nary a red the wiser for’t. To be sure, the wust is tew come! But most of the imps are acrost the river, an’ that’ll be a great ’vantage tew us. I know where Emily is—poor girl! We’ll git thar’ in good time, an’, when we do, we’ll make our presence known.” “That we will!” exclaimed Charles, with enthusiasm. “But tell me, Davy, do you think Ashbey will be there soon? Do you think he will torture Emily with his detested presence before we can reach and save her?” “I can’t tell,” the scout replied. “I hardly think he will cross the river ag’in for some days, unless he suspects where we’re gone tew. But we’re here fust, and kin ’tend tew him when he comes.” CHAPTER VII. THE CAPTIVE. But what of the captive maid? When she found herself alone with her red guards, and realized that Ashbey had indeed left her for a time, a sense of relief followed. There was something in his presence which seemed to poison the very air about her. Scarcely did she heed that her horse was led from the fatal spot; hardly was she conscious that they were striking into the forest, and taking a direct course toward the Mississippi. She had little thought, feeling or care for herself. What was life to her now?