A great shout, fierce with triumph, rose behind them.
"They've found where our trail entered the water, and they think they've got us," whispered Henry.

"Now, be still, Paul; we'll hide here." They pushed themselves into a mass of debris, where logs and boughs, swept by the current, formed a little arch over the stream.

There they stood up to their chins in water, with their heads covered by the arch.

Through the slits between the trunks and boughs they could see their pursuers.
It was a numerous band--thirty or forty men--and they divided now into several parties.

Some ran along the banks of the stream and others sprang from log to log over the raft, searching everywhere, with keen, black eyes trained to note every movement of the wilderness.
Paul felt Henry's hand again on his shoulder, but neither boy spoke.