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CHAPTER V
THE FLIGHT TO THE RIVER
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“Henry!”
“Dave! How did you manage——”
“Hush! Don’t make any noise, or the Indians may hear you. Stand still until I untie the ropes. They took my knife away from me.”
No more was said just then. Henry’s heart gave a great bound of joy. Dave was alive and well, after all. The discovery was almost too good to be true.
With dextrous fingers Dave undid the rawhide which held his cousin a prisoner. Henry was so stiff that he staggered, and Dave had to support him for the moment.
“Come with me to the river—we can take to the canoe,” whispered Dave into his cousin’s ear. He was fearful that one of the Indians might awaken at any moment and stop their flight.
“All right, Dave, but——” Henry hesitated, and tried to look through the darkness and the rain. “Are you armed?”
“No.”
“Neither am I—they took everything I had. We ought to try to get at least one rifle and a knife.”
“Yes, but the risk?”
“Is the canoe ready for use?”
“Yes,—all we have to do is to jump in and shove off.”