"You should have care; the bullet scraped along your skull, and you have a knife-gash in the side. We have just passed Buck Creek, and the rocky cliff for which we were making lies about three miles downstream. Best let Red Hugh pass, go to the Blue River settlement, and wait there until you are recovered." Norton made no other reply than to reach for his half-dried clothes. The other looked at him, his fine face wrinkled into a frown of anxiety. "It's rank madness, Norton!" he said quietly. "You're scarce able to walk, and are like to suffer----" "I am going to find Red Hugh, if I die the next hour." Norton finished drawing on the fine-beaded moccasins, slipped the red-streaked horn over his shoulder by its thong, and looked at his comrade. He felt shaky indeed, but so clearly did his whole manner evince the iron determination within him, that Audubon shook his head resignedly and turned to his own garments. "The canoe is towing astern," he said simply. Norton reached for his buckskin shirt, and staggered under a swirl of pain and weakness. Instantly the other was at his side, with a rush of protestation against trying to leave the hospitable flatboat. "I am going to find Red Hugh," said Norton doggedly, and resumed his dressing as his head cleared. They were slipping down the stream fast. Already the high cliff mentioned by Boone as a landmark was in sight, far ahead, and Audubon departed to find the captain. The latter readily assented to take the flatboat in close to the Kentucky shore, and sent his crew to the sweeps. The boat was going through to St. Louis, and her captain carried some freight for Audubon, so that the latter met with prompt obedience. Meanwhile, Norton sat in the sun and wiped the wet rifles mechanically. Every trace of the storm had vanished and the morning was coming up splendid in summer warmth. Norton knew they were in a grave situation, however, and said as much when his comrade rejoined him. The man whose canoe they now held had undoubtedly been one of the Blacknose gang, and Norton strongly believed he had been one of a cordon of spies stretched at intervals along the river. Were this the case, the conflagration would be noticed, the man's body might be found, and the gang would waste no more warnings. Norton's one hope lay in getting ashore unobserved, pre-supposing the river to be watched; if the flatboat ran in close to the wooded Kentucky shore, he and Audubon might land unobserved by anyone who watched from a distance. The river seemed deserted, save for the distantly smoking canebrake far behind. Whether there were any Blacknose spies aboard the flatboat could not be told.