were precious.

The soil grew harder and he made better speed, but when he looked through
the foliage he saw the canoe still opposite him. It was easy for them,
on the smooth surface of the river, to keep pace with him, if such was
their object. Furious anger took hold of him. He knew that he must
soon become exhausted, while the men in the canoe would scarcely feel
weariness. Then came the idea.

The canoe was light and thin almost like the birch bark Indian canoe of
the north, and he was a good marksman. It was a last chance, but raising
his rifle he fired the heavy bullet directly at the bottom of the canoe.
As the echo of the first shot was dying he slipped in a cartridge and
sent a second at the same target. He did not seek to kill the men,
his object was the canoe, and as he ran rapidly away he saw it fill
with water and sink, the two soldiers in the stream swimming toward the
western shore.

Dick laughed to himself. He had won a triumph, although he did not yet
know that it would amount to anything. At any rate the men could no
longer glide up and down the river at their leisure looking for him to
come forth from the forest.

He knew that the shots would bring the single pursuer at full speed, and,
as he had saved some ounces of strength, he now ran at his utmost speed.
The river curved again and just beyond the curve it seemed shallow to
him. He plunged in at once, and waded rapidly, holding his rifle,
pistols and saddlebags above his head. He was in dread lest he receive
a bullet in his back, but he made the farther shore, ran into the dense
undergrowth and sank down dripping and panting.