Henry and Paul crouched closer in their covert, and the warriors stalked back and forth, still searching.
Henry knew that the Shawnees, failing to find a place beyond the debris where the fugitives had emerged upon the bank, would believe that they might be hidden under the logs, and would not give up the hunt there.

If they should happen to find the rifles and ammunition, they would certainly be confirmed in the conclusion, but so far they had not found them.

Henry, looking between the logs, saw them pass near the place of concealment, but they did not stop, and were soon near the other bank.

It would have bitterly hurt his pride if they had found the rifles, even had he and Paul escaped.
An hour more they waited, and then the last warrior was out of sight, gone up the river.
"I think we may crawl out now," whispered Henry; "but we've still got to be mighty careful about it." Pad took a step and fell over in the water.

His legs were stiff with the wet and cold; but Henry dragged him up, and before trying it again he stretched first one leg and then the other, many times.
"We must make our way back through the logs and brush to the rifles," whispered Henry, "and then take to the woods once more." "I think I've lived in a river long enough to last me the rest of my life," Paul said.
Henry laughed.