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Some of our people say that the pale-faces are already plentier than leaves on the trees. I do not believe this. These notches tell us differently. It is true the pale-faces grow fast, and have many children, and small-pox does not kill many of them, and their wars are few; but look at this stick. Could a canoe-full of men become as many as they say, in so few winters? No; it is not so.
Yes, the savages are once more in sight, a canoe-full of them just appearing around the point of the cliff, closely followed by another, and another, till four are under view in front of the cove. They are as yet far out on the sea-arm; but as they have come along it from the west, the castaways suppose them to be some of their late assailants, still persistently continuing the pursuit. But no!
We were entering a region of desolation. The ice was increasing, and the water took that ghastly hue, even a glimpse of which is enough to chill the marrow in one's bones. Vegetation was dying out. A canoe-full of shivering Indians were stemming the icy flood in search of some chosen fishery, all of them blanketed, and all squaw as well as papooses taking a turn at the paddle.
"Last night, shortly after the moon had come above the tree-tops, they left in the canoe, and they went far before the morning light had appeared, when they dared not return." "And when saw you the Shawnees?" "Yesterday, after you had gone, a canoe-full of their warriors passed by the island in their canoe.
There are plenty of them about, and so tame that I felt satisfied that there were no blacks near." "Then you've seen no signs of any, sir?" asked Bostock. "Not a sign." "That's good, sir, but it don't mean much, for we might have a visit from a big canoe-full at any time." "How far did you go?" asked Carey. "To where the little river glides out of a lake up yonder in the hills.
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