202 THE BED MOUNTAIN OF ALASKA. 
Richard instantly discharged his rifle into the air as a 
signal, but, before anything more could be said, the Fox 
came hurrying up the river bank. 
Bad Injuns comin','' he panted. " Woods all full both 
sides river. Come to kill white folks. No stay here ! " 
" To the canoe ! To the canoe ! " cried Richard, for- 
getting the reenforcements at hand, in his fear of the new 
danger. " Quick ! the island is our only chance. Jump 
in, Flossie and Ella. Peeschee, paddle for your life ! " 
" Get into the willows, girls ! " he shouted, as the 
canoe, driven by Peeschee' s powerful strokes, foamed 
through the water. 
In an incredibly short space of time he was back again, 
and off once more with Chloe and the lieutenant. 
As yet not an Indian had been seen. The Chilkats 
plunged into the water, and swam across to the island. 
The tents and the few remaining goods were hurriedly 
bundled into the canoe, and carried to the raft. Peeschee 
pulled the canoe upon its stout logs, and dove for the 
willows. 
Still no sign of the savages. Richard began to hope 
the Fox had for once mistaken a passing band of hunters 
for a war party. 
" Perhaps we can get away quietly, and dodge the 
whole crowd," he said to Peeschee, in low tones. 
Then, after a careful survey of both banks, he called 
the women out on the raft. The Chilkats stood ready 
with their poles. Peeschee held the painter in his hand. 
