The batteau, of extra-large size, was filled with baggage, and besides the boys there were ten rangers on board, including old Campwell. The old man sat in the rear of the craft, eyeing the shore critically.
"My eyesight ain't none o' the best," he drawled, presently. "But onless I'm in error, I jest see a number o' Injuns behind yonder skirt o' bushes."
All looked in the direction, and presently one of the other rangers said that he, too, saw at least two Indians. They appeared to be following up the boats and at the same time did all they could to keep hidden.
"What do you make of that?" asked Henry of Barringford, who was pulling an oar beside him.
The old frontiersman shrugged his shoulders. "Depends on whether they are friends or enemies, Henry," he said. "If they are friends more'n likely they'll jine us when we reach the river."
"And if not?"
"Then they ought to be captured, for if they ain't friends they are spying for the French."
Evidently the Indians had not been discovered by those on the other batteaux, and after a short talk the man in charge of that containing our friends decided to report the case to his superior, in a boat some distance ahead. Pulling with all strength, the
