From these reveries he was suddenly startled by the sound of a slight
splash in the water and a subdued human voice. Raising his head very
cautiously above the side of the canoe, Rene caught a glimpse, at the
mouth of the little lagoon in which his own craft was concealed, of
another canoe, in which were seated two Indians. It was headed
up-stream, but its occupants had paused in their paddling, and from
their gestures were evidently considering the exploration of the very
place in which he lay hidden from them. In one of them Rene recognized
the unwelcome face of Chitta the Snake, but the other he had never
before seen.
With a loudly beating heart and almost without breathing he watched
them, thankful enough for the shelter of broad lily-leaves that raised
their green barrier in front of him. He was fully conscious that upon
the result of the conversation the two were holding, in such low tones
that he could not distinguish a word, depended his own fate. He knew,
from what Has-se had told him, that Chitta regarded him as an enemy,
and he knew also that for his enemies an Indian reserves but one fate,
and will kill them if he can.
Thus it was with the feeling that he had escaped a mortal peril, and
with a long-drawn sigh of relief, that he saw the discussion come to an
end, and the strange canoe continue on its course up-stream. It
disappeared in the direction from which he and Has-se had come before
encountering the moccasin.
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