No one of the five had slept during the night. They did not feel the need of sleep, and they were upborne, too, by a great exaltation. They had saved the prisoners thus far from a horrible fate, and they were firmly resolved to reach, with them, some strong settlement and safety. They felt, too, a sense of exultation over Brant, Sangerachte, Hiokatoo, the Butlers, the Johnsons, Wyatt, and all the crew that had committed such terrible devastation in the Wyoming Valley and elsewhere. The full day clothed the earth in a light that turned from silver to gold, and the woman and the children still slept. The five chewed some strips of venison, and looked rather lugubriously at the pieces they were saving for Mary Newton and the children. “We ought to hev more'n that,” said Shif'less Sol. “Ef the worst comes to the worst, we've got to land somewhar an' shoot a deer.” “But not yet,” said Henry in a whisper, lest he wake the sleepers. “I think we'll come into the Susquehanna pretty soon, and its width will be a good thing for us. I wish we were there now. I don't like this narrow stream. Its narrowness affords too good an ambush.” “Anyway, the creek is broadenin' out fast,” said the shiftless one, “an' that is a good sign. What's that you see ahead, Henry--ain't it a river?” “It surely is,” replied Henry, who caught sight of a broad expanse of water, “and it's the Susquehanna. Pull hard, Sol! In five more minutes we'll be in the river.” It was less than five when they turned into the current of the Susquehanna, and less than five more when they heard a shout behind them, and saw at least a dozen canoes following. The canoes were filled with Indians and Tories, and they had spied the fugitives. “Keep the women and the children down, Paul,” cried Henry. All knew that Henry and Shif'less Sol were the best shots, and, without a word, Long Jim and Tom, both powerful and skilled watermen, swung heavily on the oars, while Henry and Shif'less Sol sat in the rear with their rifles ready. Mary Newton awoke with a cry at the sound of the shots, and started to rise, but Paul pushed her down. “We're on the Susquehanna now, Mrs. Newton,” he said, “and we are pursued. The Indians and Tories have just seen us, but don't be afraid. The two who are watching there are the best shots in the world.” He looked significantly at Henry and Shif'less Sol, crouching in the stern of the boat like great warriors from some mighty past, kings of the forest whom no one could overcome, and her courage came back. The children, too, had awakened with frightened cries, but she and Paul quickly soothed them, and, obedient to commands, the four, and Mary Newton with them, lay flat upon the bottom of the boat, which was now being sent forward rapidly by Jim Hart and Tom. Paul took up his rifle and sat in a waiting attitude, either to relieve one of the men at the oars or to shoot if necessary.