When the Arrow Flies

XXV

THE HEDGE

AT six the night fell. The men prayed, then speedily and stealthily entered the canoes and edged from the bank. “That was well done.” “Not as well as you think, Harry. Two arrows just skinned me at the back of the canoe. I didn’t dare to say anything, or the men will jump out again.” Had it been moonlight, they could not have escaped; yet in the blackness they were moving like blind men. The river course was unknown. Besides whirlpools, treacherous rocks were everywhere and not visible in the darkness. The men wanted to move fast, yet to hit one rock would mean losing everything. Skilled men stood at the front of the canoes, testing the water with poles to ascertain rocks, shallowness, and depth. Where the current rushed the canoes too fast, the men hugged the banks, braking the speed by grasping overhanging tree limbs. Where the river ran shallow, they got out to pull and push. “I willl bring the blind by a way that they knew not; I will

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