The Riflemen Of The Miami

CHAPTER I.

THE RESCUE.

If it were done, when 'tis done, then 'twere well
It were done quickly.--MACBETH.


"Quick, boys, and be careful that they don't see your heads."

Four men were moving along under the bank of the Miami, with their
bodies bent, at a gait that was almost rapid enough to be called a run.
They were constantly raising their heads and peering over the bank, as
though watching something in the wood, which in this section was quite
open. All four were attired in the garb of hunters, and were evidently
men whose homes were in the great wilderness. They had embrowned faces,
and sinewy limbs, and the _personnel_ of the woodman--of the men who
hovered only upon the confines of civilization, rarely, if ever,
venturing within the crowded city or village. It is hardly necessary to
say that each carried his rifle and his hunting-knife.

Between the three foremost was a striking resemblance; it appeared
impossible that more than five years divided them in age. Two were
brothers, George and Lewis Dernor, while the third answered to the
_sobriquet_ of Dick--his real name being Richard Allmat. The fourth--he
who brought up the rear--possessed an individuality which must have
marked him in any situation. Barely more than five feet in height, and
with bowed legs, instead of owning a jovial temper, as one would have a
right to expect from his jolly-looking face, he was, in reality, a most
irascible fellow. Never known to express satisfaction at any
occurrence, gift or suggestion, he was constantly finding fault, and
threatening dire vengeance upon those who surrounded him.