Once the wind stopped entirely and the tree had no motion save that of the swell.

It wandered idly, a lone derelict upon a solitary lake.
Robert scarcely breathed when the canoe was sent their way.

He was wholly unconscious of the water in which he was sunk to the shoulders, but every imaginative nerve was alive to the immense peril.
"If they return and come much nearer we must immerse to the eyes," whispered Willet.

"Then they would have to be almost upon us before they saw us.

It will make it much harder for us to get at our weapons, but we must take that risk too." "They have turned," said Robert, "and here they come!" It looked this time as if the savages had decided to make a close and careful inspection of the tree, bearing directly toward it, and coming so close that Robert could see their fierce, painted faces well and the muscles rising and falling on their powerful arms as they swept their paddles through the water.