Inspired With New Hope, Colter Redoubled His Exertions, But
Strained Himself To Such A Degree, That The Blood Gushed From His
Mouth And Nostrils, And Streamed Down His Breast.
He arrived
within a mile of the river.
The sound of footsteps gathered upon
him. A glance behind showed his pursuer within twenty yards, and
preparing to launch his spear. Stopping short he turned round and
spread out his arms. The savage, confounded by this sudden
action, attempted to stop and hurl his spear, but fell in the
very act. His spear stuck in the ground, and the shaft broke in
his hand. Colter plucked up the pointed part, pinned the savage
to the earth, and continued his flight. The Indians, as they
arrived at their slaughtered companion, stopped to howl over him.
Colter made the most of this precious delay, gained the skirt of
cotton-wood bordering the river, dashed through it, and plunged
into the stream. He swam to a neighboring island, against the
upper end of which the driftwood had lodged in such quantities as
to form a natural raft; under this he dived, and swam below water
until he succeeded in getting a breathing place between the
floating trunks of trees, whose branches and bushes formed a
covert several feet above the level of the water. He had scarcely
drawn breath after all his toils, when he heard his pursuers on
the river bank, whooping and yelling like so many fiends. They
plunged in the river, and swam to the raft.
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