During their stay here they had much leisure, and made many excursions about Quebec. Sometimes they paddled down stream in one of the major’s canoes and visited the Ile of Orleans, or the Falls of Montmorency, or up the rapid stream of the River Charles, to visit some of the friendly Indians. One day they were returning down-stream from a visit to Cape Rouge, some leagues above the city, on the St. Lawrence, where they had been camping some three days, fishing for salmon and hunting the red deer, when suddenly, and without the slightest warning, a fearful yell burst from a point of the southern bank, scarce a hundred yards away.
"Indians!" exclaimed Jack, striking his paddle into the water with all his might.
A shower of bullets and a flight of arrows flicked up the water about the canoe.
"Pull for your life, Jamie! They’ve been lying in wait for us. Lucky we didn’t land there as we had intended."
"Lucky indeed! They would have had our scalps by now, and they may have them yet. Look there! One, two, three canoes! coming as fast as they can. It’s all over unless we can beat them."
They were in a tight corner. They had been warned that the Iroquois were watching the river above Quebec, but they had never dreamt that they were so near.
The Indians were gaining upon them, although they were flying rapidly downstream. They had ceased to yell now, for the city was only two leagues away, and they were straining every nerve to overtake the lads before they could reach safety. An occasional bullet struck the canoe, but they did not look around, for they could hear the splash of the Iroquois’ paddles, and the sound seemed to come nearer and nearer.
"I can do no more, Jack! My arm’s still painful from the wound," and Jamie drew in his paddle.
"Hold on, Jamie! Don’t give in. In another five minutes we shall be out of danger. There’s the little cove where we’ve landed many a time, just there on the northern bank. If we can only reach that spot, we can quickly climb up to the heights, and the Indians will not dare to follow us there. Hold on for another few minutes!"
This was the only chance that offered an escape from the foe, and Jamie, despite his wound, which at times of great exertion still pained him, put in his paddle again. They were running rapidly down under the precipitous northern bank now, and with a skilful twist of his paddle Jack sent the nose of the canoe quickly ashore, right up on the narrow strand, in the cove, at the foot of the cliffs.