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Henty, G. A. (George Alfred), 1832-1902

"The Winning of a Continent"

They might see us out in the light waters, in
the middle; but, under the trees, they can't make us out thirty yards
off. They will be lying there, quiet, if they are there at all, and we
shall either get past them safe, or we shall pretty nigh run into them.
It's just chance, and there's nothing to do for it but to paddle as
noiselessly as fish, and trust to our luck."
Having crossed the lake to the left shore, they entered the narrows.
The paddles were dipped so quietly into the water, that even James
could scarcely hear their sound. Every few strokes the scouts stopped
paddling altogether, and sat listening intently. They were keeping
close to the trees, so close that, at times, it seemed to James that,
by stretching out his hands, he could touch the bushes.
After an hour's paddling they stopped longer than usual.
"What is it?" James whispered in Jonathan's ear, for Nat had taken the
bow paddle.
"There are men ahead," the scout whispered back. "We heard them speak
just now."
Presently the boat began to move again, but so quietly, that it was
only by looking at the dark masses of the boughs, that stretched out
overhead, that James knew the boat was in motion. Jonathan now crouched
in the bottom of the boat, and placed his hand on Nat's shoulder as a
sign for him to do the same.


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