This was what the crafty Red Eagle had been waiting for so long.
It was the final touch of savagery, and the boy's generous and noble heart rebelled within him.

He started up, propelled by the impulse to warn; but the two warriors pulled him violently back, one of them again touching him significantly with his tomahawk.

Paul knew that it was useless.

Any movement or cry of his would cause his own death, and would not be sufficient to warn those on the boat.

He sank back again, trembling in every nerve, not for himself but for the unsuspecting travelers on the river.
The boat came steadily on, Paul saw a number of men, some walking about and others at the huge sweeps with which it was controlled.