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whites found in a moment that they had committed a great mistake in launching as they did. In the first place, there was not an oar in the boat, and thus, not being able to "paddle their own canoe," they were also deprived of the ability to paddle one belonging to some one else. Besides this, the river was dark as Styx, and the whole sky and air were of the same inky blackness, and not one in the boat had the remotest idea of where they were going—whether it was to pitch over some falls, down some rapids or into the bank.

"I'm going to set down and consider which is the biggest fool, Haldidge, you or me, in starting out in this canoe which we borrowed for a short time."

So saying, Seth made his way to the stem of the canoe where he rested himself—not upon the bottom of it, as he expected, but upon something soft, which emitted a grunt audible to all, as he did so.

"My gracious! what's under me?" he exclaimed, reaching his hand down and feeling around in the dark. "A live Injin as sure as my name is Seth Jones. Ah, you copper-headed monkey!"

It was as he said. An Indian had stretched out on his back with his feet dangling over the edge of the canoe, and Seth, without the faintest suspicion of his presence, had seated himself square upon his breast. As may be supposed, this was not relished at all by the startled savage, and he made several strenuous efforts to roll him off.

"Now, just lay still," commanded Seth, "for I've an idea that I can't find a more comfortable seat."

The savage was evidently so thoroughly frightened that he ceased his efforts and lay perfectly quiet and motionless. "Have you got a real Indian here?" asked Haldidge, as he came to Seth.