Seneca Surrender Read Free Page B

raising it again high in the air.
    Both men fell down into the canoe, Thompson looked up, and Sarah was witness to the horror that came instantly onto his face. Without further pretense at the fight, Thompson let go of Black Eagle. Immediately, he dived over the edge of the canoe, disappearing into swirling streams of water.
    Black Eagle, who was still obviously in the throes of battle, must have briefly felt the urge to do the same—to take the conflict into the water’s fatal depths. But with a quick look about him, sanity must have returned to him.
    Glancing forward, Sarah beheld the look of dread that fell over Black Eagle’s features. It was obvious: Their boat was on a one-way path to the falls.
    They were doomed.
    Sarah watched as Black Eagle knelt down beside Marisa. Within his gaze was so much love and admiration that Sarah felt as though she were an intruder in something utterly private. It was as if Black Eagle were saying to Marisa that were this to be his last moment on earth, by looks alone, he would shower her with adoration.
    And Marisa appeared to be of a similar frame of mind. Her look matched his. Sarah glanced away, feeling as if she were trespassing.
    It couldn’t last, however. Time wouldn’t allow it. When Black Eagle at last jerked his gaze away, Sarah watched as he scanned the scene in front of the group. Instantly he sat up, alert.
    “Take Sarah’s arm!” he yelled to Marisa. “Don’t let go!” He stood to his feet.
    Marisa and Sarah exchanged a gaze. They immediately took hold of each other.
    Then it happened. Sarah watched as Black Eagle grasped hold of Marisa’s arm. “Hold tight to me!” he ordered. “Use all your strength, both of you. Use everything in you, but don’t let go!”
    Marisa and Sarah nodded.
    Meanwhile, their boat, caught in the currents, tipped over the edge of the falls. Both Marisa and Sarah screamed. But it wasn’t over, not yet.
    There was a branch that Sarah hadn’t noticed. It was a strong and sturdy part of a mighty oak tree. The branch had extended out over the falls. If Black Eagle could but hold of it with his arm …
    He did it. Black Eagle seized hold of the tree limb at the same moment their canoe would have carried them past it.
    The force of the motion jerked all three from the canoe, and there they hung, each one dangling from the other’s grasp. Were they saved? Sarah couldn’t say with certainty. She was holding on precariously to Marisa, who was, in turn, grasping Black Eagle. But the force of the movement out of the canoe swung both the women back and forth, causing Sarah’s grip to slacken.
    There they hung. Thank goodness Indians were conditioned to carry heavy loads, for Black Eagle held them both with only one arm. Then, using their natural momentum, Black Eagle began to swing them both toward the shore. Sarah looked. It wasn’t that far away.
    “Hold on!” Black Eagle shouted. “I’m going to sweep you both to shore!”
    She slipped.
    “I can’t!” hollered Sarah, crying, bringing up her other hand to obtain a better grip. “I can’t keep hold. It’s too slippery!”
    “ Nyoh , you can! You must!”
    “I’m trying to, but—”
    “She’s slipping away from me!” It was Marisa.
    “I’ve got you!” Black Eagle yelled at her. “Keep hold! Keep hold!”
    But Sarah’s hands were too wet, as were Marisa’s. Though Sarah tried with all her might, her grip was loosening. Meanwhile, Black Eagle was pitching them toward shore with all his might, but Sarah’s strength was failing. She was crying.
    However, Marisa wouldn’t let go. “Sarah! Keep hold!”
    It was not to be. With a deafening scream, Sarah’s grip broke and she fell, her screams echoing over the rushing water, drowning out for the moment the sounds of the pounding weight of the falls.
    The last thought she had as she swooped down into the water was that she had failed in her duty—she would not be there to chaperone Marisa and Black Eagle. Indeed, her fate