them. Yet he was apparently unmoved, though he kept all his senses
on the alert, in readiness to escape, or to strike a blow at the
proper moment. By carefully abstaining from looking towards those
behind him, he lessened the chances of discovery, and waited with
the indomitable patience of an Indian for the instant when he should
be required to act.

"Let all my young men but two, one at each end of the canoe, cross
and get their arms," said the Iroquois chief. "Let the two push
over the boat."

The Indians quietly obeyed, leaving Jasper at the stern, and the
Iroquois who had found the canoe at the bow of the light craft,
Chingachgook burying himself so deep in the river as to be passed
by the others without detection. The splashing in the water, the
tossing arms, and the calls of one to another, soon announced that
the four who had last joined the party were already swimming. As
soon as this fact was certain, the Delaware rose, resumed his former
station, and began to think the moment for action was come.

One less habitually under self-restraint than this warrior would
probably have now aimed his meditated blow; but Chingachgook knew
there were more Iroquois behind him on the rift, and he was a warrior
much too trained and experienced to risk anything unnecessarily.
He suffered the Indian at the bow of the canoe to push off into
the deep water, and then all three were swimming in the direction of
the eastern shore. Instead, however, of helping the canoe across
the swift current, no sooner did the Delaware and Jasper find
themselves within the influence of its greatest force than both
began to swim in a way to check their farther progress across the