"If any of the Indians were on the watch, and saw the flash of powder, as well as the gunshot, they might give a guess what we were up to," Bob remarked. "We'll hope, then, they gave up chasing after the boat, when they saw it was no use," Sandy added. The flatboat was now close by, and they could even see moving figures on the deck. The two boys felt positive that among them were their anxious parents; and the fact made them all the more eager to get safely aboard. "Now they're going to anchor!" declared Sandy; "and I can see somebody dropping back into the dugout that trails astern. Let's get ready to put our meat aboard, and follow with ourselves." Immediately the small boat started straight for the end of the tongue of land, as though the paddler knew that those he sought were apt to be close by that point. Still grunting with his painful ankle, Pat insisted on picking up his share of the venison, with which he limped forward. It was Mr. Armstrong himself who came in the dugout. So eager was he to make sure that both his boys were safe, that he would not let any one else attempt this part of the rescue work. Sandy started to tell what had happened, but Bob stopped all talk, and urged him to get in the boat without a second's delay, after all the venison, together with the lame trapper, had been deposited there. There would be plenty of time for explanations later on, when danger did not hang so heavily over their heads. With all his might Mr. Armstrong urged the little craft, now really overloaded, out toward the anchored flatboat. At any second Bob expected to hear the shout of a coming brave, and perhaps have the report of a gun break upon his ear. Until they had clambered aboard the larger craft, he did not feel that they could call themselves safe. But when finally every one of them had climbed over the side, both Sandy and Bob felt like giving a shout of thanksgiving. They were met by the fond arms of their mother, and pressed to her heart; for no one knew all that she must have suffered after hearing those terribly significant six shots, telling them cruel foes were abroad, and that they must apparently abandon the three who were ashore. The anchor had hardly been raised than one of the men reported seeing shadowy figures flitting along the tongue of land; but as the unwieldy craft again commenced to pass down with the current, and they knew that once more the foe had been left in the lurch, those on board gave free rein to their joy in loud cheers. A few disappointed yells announced that they had not passed on any too soon; and the boys decided that they had great reason to be thankful over their narrow escape. And later on, when the dearly-won venison was lifted out of the dugout that trailed astern, the thought of having fresh meat gave them all much satisfaction. Of course the boys had to tell their story over and over again, while many questions were asked regarding the coming of the Indians.