Chapter V. On the Great River

by Joseph A. Altsheler

　　They remained just within the edge of the forest, but,despite the lack of moonlight, they could see far over thesurface of the river. It seemed to be an absolutely clean sweepof waters, as free from boats as if man had never come, but,after long looking, Henry thought that he could detect a halfdozen specks moving southward. It was only for a moment, andthen the specks were gone.

　　"I'm sure it was the Spanish boats," said Henry, "and Ithink they've given up the hunt."

　　"More'n likely," said Sol, "an' I guess it's about time furus to pull across an' pick up Paul an' Tom an' Jim. They'llwonder what hez become o' us. An' say, Henry, won't they bes'prised to see us come proudly sailin' into port in our gran'big gall-yun, all loaded down with arms an' supplies an'treasures that we hey captured?"

　　Sol spoke in a tone of deep content, and Henry replied inthe same tone: "If they don't they've changed mightily since weleft 'em."

　　Both, in truth, were pervaded with satisfaction. They feltthat they had never done a better night's work. They had asplendid boat filled with the most useful supplies. As Soltruthfully said, it was one thing to walk a thousand milesthrough the woods to New Orleans and another to float down on thecurrent in a comfortable boat. They had cause for their deepsatisfaction.

　　They pulled with strong, steady strokes across theMississippi, taking a diagonal course, and they stopped now andthen to look for a possible enemy. But they saw nothing, and atlast their boat touched the western shore. Here Sol utteredtheir favorite signal, the cry of the wolf, and it was quicklyanswered from the brush.

　　"They're all right," said Henry, and presently they heardthe light footsteps of the three coming fast.

　　"Here, Paul, here we are!" called out Sol a few momentslater, " an' min', Paul, that your moccasins are clean. We don'tallow no dirty footsteps on this magnificent, silver-platedgall-yun o' ours, an' ez fur Jim Hart, ef the Mississippi wuzn'tso muddy I'd make him take a bath afore he come aboard."

　　Henry and the shiftless one certainly enjoyed the surpriseof their comrades who stood staring.

　　"I suppose you cut her out, took her from the Spaniards?"said Paul.

　　"We shorely did," replied Sol, "an', Paul, she's a shoreenough gall-yun, one o' the kind you told us them Spaniards had,'cause she's full o' good things. Jest come on board an' look."

　　The three were quickly on the boat and they followed Solwith surprise and delight, as he showed them their new treasuresone by one.

　　"You've named her right, Sol," said Paul. "She is a galleonto us, sure enough, and that's what we'll call her, 'TheGalleon.' When we have time, Sol, you and I will cut that name onher with our knives."

　　They tied their boat to a sapling and kept the oars andthemselves aboard. Tom Ross volunteered to keep the watch forthe few hours that were left of the night. The others disposedthemselves comfortably in the boat, wrapped their bodies in thebeautiful new Spanish blankets, and were soon sound asleep.

　　Tom sat in the prow of the boat, his rifle across his knees,and his keen hunting knife by his side. At the first sign ofdanger from shore he could cut the rope with a single slash ofhis knife and push the boat far out into the current.

　　But there was no indication of danger nor did theindefinable sixth sense, that came of long habit and training,warn him of any. Instead, it remained a peaceful night, thoughdark, and Tom looked contemplatively at his comrades. He was theoldest of the little party and a man of few words, but he wasdeeply attached to his four faithful comrades. Silently he gavethanks that his lot was cast with those whom he liked so well.The night passed away and up came a beautiful dawn of rose andgold. Tom Ross awakened his comrades.

　　"The day is here," he said, "an' we must be up an' doin' efwe're goin' to keep on the trail o' them Spanish fellers."

　　"All right," said Shif'less Sol, opening his eyes. "JimHart, is my breakfus ready? Ef so, you kin jest bring it to mewhile I'm layin' here an' I'll eat it in bed."

　　"Your breakfus ready!" replied Jim Hart indignantly. "Whatsort uv nonsense are you talkin' now, Sol Hyde?"

　　"Why, ain't you the ship's cook?" said Sol in a hurt tone,"an' oughtn't you to be proud o' bein' head cook on asplendiferous new gall-yun like this? I'd a-thought, Jim, you'dbe so full o' enthusiasm over bein' promoted that you'd have hadready fur us the grandest breakfus that wuz ever cooked by amortal man fur mortal men. It wuz sech a fine chance fur you."

　　"I think we can risk a fire," said Henry. "The Spaniards arefar out of sight, and warm food will be good for us.

　　After they had eaten, Henry poured a few drops of theSpanish liquor for each in a small silver cup that he found inone of the lockers.

　　"That will hearten us up," he said, but directly after they drankit Paul, who had been making an exploration of his own on theboat, uttered a cry of joy.

　　"Coffee!" he said, as he dragged a bag from under a seat,"and here is a pot to boil it in."

　　"More treasures," said Sol gleefully. "That wuz shorely agood night's work you an' me done, Henry!"

　　There was nothing to do but boil a pot of the coffee thenand there, and each had a long, delicious drink. Coffee and teawere so rare in the wilderness that they were valued likeprecious treasures. Then they packed their things and started,pulling out into the middle of the stream and giving the currentonly a little assistance with the oars.

　　"One thing is shore," said Shif'less Sol, lollingluxuriously on a locker, "that Spanish gang can't git away fromus. All we've got to do is to float along ez easy ez you please,an' we'll find 'em right in the middle o' the road."

　　"It does beat walkin'," said Jim Hart, with equal content,"but this is shorely a pow'ful big river. I never seed so muchmuddy water afore in my life."

　　"It's a good river, a kind river," said Paul, "because it'staking us right to its bosom, and carrying us on where we want togo with but little trouble to us."

　　It was to Paul, the most imaginative of them all, to whomthe mighty river made the greatest appeal. It seemed beneficentand kindly to him, a friend in need. Nature, Paul thought, hadoften come to their assistance, watching over them, as it were,and helping them when they were weakest. And, in truth, whatthey saw that morning was enough to inspire a bold youngwilderness rover.

　　The river turned from yellow to a lighter tint in thebrilliant sunlight. Little waves raised by the as the wind ranacross the slowly-flowing current. As far as they could see thestream extended to eastward, carried by the flood deep into theforest. The air was crisp, with the sparkle of spring, and allthe adventurers rejoiced.

　　Now and then great flocks of wild fowl, ducks and geese,flew over the river, and they were so little used to man thatmore than once they passed close to the boat.

　　"The Spaniards are too far away to hear," said Henry, "andthe next time any wild ducks come near I'm going to try one ofthese fowling pieces. We need fresh ducks, anyway."

　　He took out a fowling piece, loaded it carefully with thepowder and shot that the locker furnished in abundance and waitedhis time. By and by a flock of wild ducks flew near and Henryfired into the midst of them. Three lay floating on the waterafter the shot, and when they took them in Long Jim Hart, amaster on all such subjects, pronounced them to be of a highlyedible variety.

　　Paul, meanwhile, took out one of the small swords andexamined it critically.

　　"It is certainly a fine one," he said. "I suppose it's whatthey call a Toledo blade in Spain, the finest that they make."

　　"Could you do much with it, Paul?" asked Shif'less Sol.

　　"I could," replied Paul confidently. "Mr. Pennypacker servedin the great French war. He was at the taking of Quebec, and helearned the use of the sword from good masters. He's taught meall the tricks."

　　"Maybe, then," said Sol laughing, "you'll have to fightAlvarez with one o' them stickers. Ef sech a combat is on it'llfall to you, Paul. The rest o' us are handier with rifle an'knife."

　　"It's never likely to happen," said Paul.

　　The morning passed peacefully on, and the glory of theheavens was undimmed. The river was a vast, murmuring stream,and the five voyagers felt that, for the present, their task wasan easy one. A single man at the oars was sufficient to keep theboat moving as fast as they wished, and the rest occupiedthemselves with details that might provide for a future need.Paul brought out one of the beautiful small swords again, andfenced vigorously with an imaginary antagonist. Jim Hart took acaptured needle and thread and began to mend a rent in hisattire. Henry lifted the folded tent from the locker and lookedcarefully at the cloth.

　　"I think that with this and a pole or two we might fix up asail if we needed it," he said. "We don't know anything aboutsails, but we can learn by trying."

　　Tom Ross was at the oars, but Shif'less Sol lay back on alocker, closed his eyes, and said:

　　"Jest wake me up, when we git to New Or-leeyuns. I couldlay here an' sleep forever, the boat rockin' me to sleep like acradle."

　　They saw nothing of the Spanish force, but they knew thatsuch a flotilla could not evade them. Having no reason to hide,the Spaniards would not seek to conceal so many boats in theflooded forest. Hence the five felt perfectly easy on thatpoint. About noon they ran their own boat among the trees untilthey reached dry land. Here they lighted a fire and cooked theirducks, which they found delicious, and then resumed theirleisurely journey.

　　The afternoon was as peaceful as the morning, but it seemedto the sensitive imagination of Paul that the wilderness aspectof everything was deepening. The great flooded river broadeneduntil the line of water and horizon met, and Paul could easilyfancy that they were floating on a boundless sea. An uncommonlyred sun was setting and here and there the bubbles were touchedwith fire. Far in the west dark shadows were stealing up.

　　"Look," Henry suddenly exclaimed, "I think that the Spanishhave gone into camp for the night!"

　　He pointed down the stream and toward the western shore,where a thin spire of smoke was rising.

　　"It's that, certain," said Tom Ross, "an' I guess we'dbetter make fur camp, too."

　　They pulled toward the eastern shore, in order that theriver might be between them and the Spaniards during the nightand soon reached a grove which stood many feet deep in the water.As they passed under the shelter of the boughs they took anotherlong look toward the spire of smoke. Henry, who had the keenesteyes of all, was able to make out the dim outline of boats tiedto the bank, and any lingering doubt that the Spaniards might notbe there was dispelled.

　　"When they start in the morning we'll start, too," saidHenry.

　　Then they pushed their boat further back into the grove.Night was coming fast. The sun sank in the bosom of the river,the water turned from yellow to red and then to black, and theearth lay in darkness.

　　"I think we'd better tie up here and eat cold food," saidHenry.

　　"An' then sleep," said Shif'less Sol. "That wuz a mightycomf'table Spanish blanket I had last night an', Jim Hart, I wantto tell you that if you move 'roun' to-night, while you'rewatchin', please step awful easy, an' be keerful not to wake me'cause I'm a light sleeper. I don't like to be waked up eitherearly or late in the night. Tain't good fur the health. Makes afeller grow old afore his time."

　　"Sol," said Henry, who was captain by fitness and universalconsent, "you'll take the watch until about one o'clock in themorning and then Paul will relieve you."

　　Jim Hart doubled up his long form with silent laughter, andsmote his knee violently with the palm of his right hand.

　　"Oh, yes, Sal Hyde," he said, "I'll step lightly, that is,ef I happen to be walkin' 'roun' in my sleep, an' I'll take carenot to wake you too suddenly, Sol Hyde. I wouldn't do it foranything. I don't want to stunt your growth, an' you alreadysech a feeble, delicate sort o' creetur, not able to takenourishment 'ceptin' from a spoon."

　　"Thar ain't no reward in this world fur a good man," saidthe shiftless one in a resigned tone.

　　They ate quickly, and, as usual, those who did not have towatch wrapped themselves in their blankets and with equalquickness fell asleep. Shif'less Sol took his place in the prowof the boat, and his attitude was much like that of Tom Ross thenight before, only lazier and more graceful. Sol was a finefigure of a young man, drooped in a luxurious and recliningattitude, his shoulder against the side of the boat, and a rollof two blankets against his back. His eyes were half closed, anda stray observer, had there been any, might have thought that hewas either asleep or dreaming.

　　But the shiftless one, fit son of the wilderness, was nevermore awake in his life. The eyes, looking from under the loweredlids, pierced the forest like those of a cat. He saw and notedevery tree trunk within the range of human vision, and no pieceof floating debris on the surface of the flooded river escapedhis attention. His sharp ears heard, too, every sound in thegrove, the rustle of a stray breeze through the new leaves, orthe splash of a fish, as it leaped from the water and sank backagain.

　　The hours dragged after one another, one by one, butShif'less Sol was not unhappy. He was really quite willing tokeep the watch, and, as Tom Ross had done, he regarded hissleeping comrades with pride, and all the warmth of goodfellowship.

　　The night was dark, like its predecessor. The moon's raysfell only in uneven streaks, and revealed a singular scene, aforest standing knee deep, as it were, in water.

　　Shif'less Sol presently took one of the blankets and wrappedit around his shoulders. A cold damp pervaded the atmosphere,and a fog began to rise from the river. The shiftless one was acautious man and he knew the danger of chills and fever. Hiscomrades were already well wrapped, but he stepped softly overand drew Paul's blanket a little closer around his neck. Then heresumed his seat, maintaining his silence.

　　Shif'less Sol did not like the rising of the river fog. Itwas thick and cold, it might be unhealthy, and it hid the view.His circle of vision steadily narrowed. Tree trunks becameghostly, and then were gone. The water, seen through the fog,had a pallid, unpleasant color. Eye became of little use, and itwas ear upon which the sentinel must depend.

　　Shif'less Sol judged that it was about midnight, and hebecame troubled. The sixth sense, that comes of acute naturalperceptions fortified by long habit, was giving him warning. Itseemed to him that he felt the approach of something. He raisedhimself up a little higher and stared anxiously into the thickmass of white fog. He could make out nothing but a little patchof water and a few ghostly tree trunks near by. Even the sternof the boat was half hidden by the fog.

　　"Wa'al," thought the shiftless one philosophically, "ef it'shard fur me to find anything it'll be hard fur anything to findus."

　　But his troubled mind would not be quiet. Philosophy wasnot a sufficient reply to the warning of the sixth sense, and,leaning far over the edge of the boat, he listened with ears longtrained to every sound of the wilderness. He heard only thestray murmur of the wind among the leaves - and was that a ripplein the water? He strained his ears and decided that it waseither a ripple or the splash of a fish, and he sank back againin his seat.

　　Although he had resumed his old position, the shiftless onewas not satisfied. The feeling of apprehension, like amysterious mental signal, was not effaced. That thick, whitishfog was surcharged with an alien quality, and slowly he raisedhimself up once more. Hark! was it the ripple again? He rosehalf to his feet, and instantly his eye caught a glimpse ofsomething brown upon the edge of the boat. It was a human hand,the brown, powerful hand of a savage.

　　The glance of Shif'less Sol followed the hand and saw abrown face emerging from the water and fog. Quick as a flash hefired. There was a terrible, unearthly cry, the hand slippedfrom the boat and the head sank from view.

　　"Up! up! boys !" cried Sal in thunderous tones. "We'reattacked by swimmin' savages!"

　　He snatched up one of the double-barreled pistols and firedat another head on the water. The others were awake in aninstant and rose up, rifles in hand. But they saw only a splashof blood on the stream that was gone in a moment, then the thick,whitish fog closed in again, and after that silence! But theyknew Sol too well to doubt him, and the momentary red splashwould have converted even the ignorant.

　　"Lie low!" exclaimed Henry. "Everybody down behind the sidesof the boat! They may fire at any time!"

　　The boat was built of thick timber, through which no bulletof that time could go, and they crouched down, merely peepingover the edges and presenting scarcely any target. They hadtheir own rifles and the extra fowling pieces and pistols weremade ready, also.

　　But nothing came from the great pall of whitish fog, andthe silence was chilly and heavy. It was the most uncanny thingin all Paul's experience. Beyond a doubt they were surrounded bysavage enemies, but from which side they would come, and when,nobody could tell until they were at the very side of the boat.

　　"How many did you see, Sol?" whispered Henry.

　　"Only two, but one of 'em won't ever attack us again."

　　"The others must be near by in their canoes, and theswimmers may have been scouts and skirmishers. They know wherewe are, but we don't know where they are."

　　"That's so," said Shif'less Sol, "an' it gives 'em anadvantage."

　　"Which, perhaps, we can take from 'em by moving our ownboat."

　　Henry was about to put his plan into action, but they hearda light splash in the water to the west, and another to thenorth. Spots of piercing red light appeared in the fog, and manyrifles cracked. Fortunately, all had thrown themselves down, andthe bullets spent themselves in the wood of the boat's side.Henry and Sol and Tom fired back at the flashes, but more rifleshots came out of the fog, and those on the boat had no way oftelling whether any of their bullets had hit.

　　"I think we'd better hold our fire," whispered Henry betweenrifle shots. "It's wasting bullets to shoot at a fog."

　　The others nodded and waited. A long cry, quavering atfirst, and then rising to a fierce top note to die away later ina ferocious, wolfish whine came through the fog. It was utteredby many throats, and in the uncanny, whitish gloom it seemed tobe on all sides of them. Then shouts and shots both ceased andthe heavy silence came again.

　　"Now is our time," whispered Henry. "Paul, steer southward.Jim, you and Tom row, and Sol and I will be ready with the guns.Keep your heads down as low as you can."

　　Jim Hart and Tom Ross took the oars, pulling them throughthe water with extreme caution and slowness. All knew that sharpears were listening in the flooded forest, and the splash of oarswould bring the war canoes at once. But they were determinedthat the fog which was such a help to their enemies should be anequal help to them also.

　　Slowly the heavy boat crept through the water. Paul, at thetiller, steered with judgment and craft, and his was no lighttask. Now and then low boughs were lapped in the water andbushes submerged to their tops grew in the way. To becometangled in them might be fatal and to scrape against them wouldbe a signal to their enemies, but Paul steered clear every time.

　　They had gone perhaps fifty yards when Henry gave a signalto stop and Jim and Tom rested on their oars. Then they heard aburst of firing be-hind them, and a smile of saturnine triumphspread slowly but completely over the face of Shif'less Sol.

　　"They're shootin' at the place whar we wuz, an' whar weain't now," he whispered to Henry.

　　"Yes," Henry whispered back, "they haven't found out yetthat we've left, but they are likely to do it pretty soon. Ihope now that this fog will hang on just as thick as it can.Start up again, boys."

　　"'Twould be funny," whispered Sol, "ef the savages shouldfind us an' chase us right into the bosoms o' the Spaniards."

　　"Yes," replied Henry, "and for that reason I think we'dbetter bend around a circle and then go up stream. I'll tellPaul to steer that way."

　　They went on again, creeping through the white darkness;fifty yards or so at a time, and then a pause to listen. Henryjudged that they were about a half mile from their originalanchorage, when the solemn note of an owl arose, to be answeredby a similar note from another point.

　　"They've discovered our departure," he whispered, "andthey're telling it to each other. I imagine that their warcanoes will now come in a kind of half circle toward the centerof the river. They'll guess that we won't retreat toward theland, because then we might be hemmed in."

　　"No doubt of it," replied Sol, "and I think we'd better pulloff toward the north now. Mebbe we kin give 'em the slip."

　　Henry gave the word and Paul steered the boat in the chosencourse. The forest grew thinner, showing that they wereapproaching the true stream, but the fog held fast. After ahundred yards or so they stopped again, and then they distinctlyheard the sound of paddles to their right. It was not a greatsplash, but they knew it well. Paul, at the tiller, fancied thathe could see the faces of the savages bending over their paddles.They were eager, he knew, for their prey, and either chance orinstinct had brought them through the white pall in the rightcourse.

　　The uncertainty, the fog, and the great mysterious riverweighed upon Paul. He wished, for a moment, that the vaporsmight lift, and then they could fight their enemies face to face.He glanced at his own comrades and they had taken on an unearthlylook. Their forms became gigantic and unreal in the whitedarkness. As Henry leaned forward to listen better his figurewas distorted like that of a misshapen giant.

　　"Steer straight toward the north, Paul," he whispered. "Wemust shake them off somehow or other."

　　Silently the boat slid through the water but they heardagain those signal cries, the hoots of the owl and now they weremuch nearer.

　　"They must have guessed our course," whispered Henry, "orperhaps they have heard the splash of an oar now and then. Stop,boys, and let's see if we can hear their canoes."

　　Their boat lay under the thick, spreading boughs of someoaks. Paul could see the branches and twigs showing overheadthrough the white fog like lace work, but everything else wasinvisible twenty feet away. All heard, however, now and then thefaint splash, splash of paddles, perhaps a hundred yards distant.Henry tried to tell from the sounds how many war canoes might bein the party, and he hazarded a wild guess of twenty. As helistened, the splash grew a little louder. Obviously the canoeswere keeping on the right course. Shif'less Sol wet his fingerand held it up. When he took it down he whispered in some alarmto Henry:

　　"The wind has begun to blow, an' it's shore to rise. It'llblow the fog away, an' we'll lay in plain sight o' all o' themsavages."

　　Henry's instinct for generalship rose at once and he saw aplan.

　　"We must keep on for midstream," he said. "We know whatdirection that is, and, out in open water, we'd have oneadvantage even over their numbers. Theirs are only light canoes,while ours is a big strong boat that will shelter us from anybullet. Pull away, boys! I'll help Sol keep up the watch."

　　The boat once more resumed its progress toward the maincurrent. The wind, as Sol had predicted, rapidly grew stronger.The deep curtain of fog began to thin and lighten. Suddenly acanoe appeared through it and then a second.

　　A bullet, fired from the first canoe, whizzed dangerouslynear the head of Shif'less Sol. He replied instantly, but thelight was so uncertain and tricky that he missed the savage atwhom he had aimed. The heavy bullet instead ploughed through theside and bottom of the bark canoe, which rapidly filled and sank,leaving its occupants struggling in the water. A bullet had comefrom the second canoe, also, but it flew wild, and then thewhitish fog, thick and impenetrable, caught by a contrary currentof wind, closed in again.

　　"Did you hit anything, Sol?" asked Henry.

　　"Only a canoe, but I busted it all up, an' they're swimmin'from tree to tree until they get to the bank."

　　"Now, boys, pull with all your might!" exclaimed Henry,"and, Paul, you steer us clear of trees, brush, logs, and snags.They know where we are and we must get out into the stream, wherethere's a chance for our escape."

　　Then ensued a flight and running combat in a tricky fog thatlifted and closed down over and over again. Henry put down hisoars presently and took up his rifle, but Jim Hart and Tom Rosscontinued to pull, and Paul kept a steady hand on the tiller.

　　Paul's task was the most trying of all. Highly sensitiveand imaginative, this battle rolling along in alternate duskylight and white obscurity, was to him uncanny and unreal. He sawpink dots of rifle fire in the fog, he caught glimpses now andthen of brown, savage faces or the prow of a canoe, and then theheavy fog would come down like a blanket again, shutting outeverything.

　　Paul's hand trembled. Every nerve in him was jumping, buthe resolutely steered the boat while the others rowed and fought.Once he barely grazed a snag and he shivered, knowing how one ofthese terrible obstructions could rip the bottom out of a boat.But soon the trees and bushes almost disappeared. They werecoming into open water. The fog, too, ceased to close down, andthe wind began to blow steadily out of the north. Banks andstreamers of white vapor rolled away toward the south. In a fewminutes it would all be gone. Out of the mists behind them rosethe shapes of war canoes not far away, and the fierce triumphantyell that swept far over the river sent a chill to Paul's verymarrow. Once again rose the rifle fire, and it was now a rapidand steady crackle, but the bullets thudded in vain on the thicksides of "The Galleon."

　　All except Paul now pulled desperately for the middle of thestream, while he, bending as low as he could, still kept a steadyhand on the tiller. The triumphant shout behind them rose again,and the great stream gave it back in a weird echo. Paul suddenlyuttered a gasp of despair. Directly in front of them, not thirtyyards away, was a large war canoe, crowded with a dozen savageswhile behind them came the horde.

　　"What is it, Paul?" asked Henry.

　　"A big canoe in front of us full of warriors. We're cutoff! No, we're not! I have it! Bend low! Bend low, youfellows, and pull with all the might that's in you!"

　　Paul had an inspiration, and his blood was leaping. Therifle shots still rattled behind them, but, as usual, the bulletsburied themselves in the wood with a sigh, doing no harm. Fourpairs of powerful arms and four powerful shoulders bent suddenlyto their task with new strength and vigor. Paul's words had beenelectric, thrilling, and every one felt their impulse instantly.The prow of the heavy boat cut swiftly through the water, andPaul bent still lower to escape the rifle-shots. No need for himto choose his course now! The boat was already sent upon itserrand.

　　A wild shout of alarm rose from the war canoe, and the nextinstant the prow of "The Galleon" struck it squarely in themiddle. There were more shouts of alarm' or pain, a crunching,ripping and breaking of wood, and then "The Galleon," after itsmomentary check, went on. The war canoe had been cut in two, andits late occupants were swimming for their lives. Not in vainhad Paul read in an old Roman history of the battles between thefleets when galley cut down galley.

　　Henry, although he did not look up, knew at once what hadhappened, and he could not restrain admiration and praise.

　　"Good for you, Paul!" he cried. "You took us right over thewar canoe and that's what's likely to save us!"

　　Henry was right. The other canoes, appalled by thedisaster, and busy, too, in picking up the derelicts, hung back.Henry and Shif'less Sol took advantage of the opportunity, andsent bullet after bullet among them, aiming more particularly atthe light bark canoes. Three filled and began to sink and theiroccupants had to be rescued. The utmost confusion andconsternation reigned in the savage fleet, and the distancebetween it and "The Galleon" widened rapidly as the latter borein a diagonal course across the Mississippi.

　　"They've had all they want," said Henry, as he laid down hisrifle and took up the oars again, "but it's this big heavy boatthat's saved us. She's been a regular floating fort."

　　"We took our gall-yun just in time," said Shif'less Soljubilantly, "an' she is shore the greatest warship that everfloated on these waters. Oh, she's a fine boat, a beautifulboat, the reg'lar King o' the seas!"

　　"Queen, you mean," said Paul, who felt the reaction.

　　"No, King it is," replied Sol stoutly. "A boat that carriestravelers may be a she, but shorely one that fights like this isa he."

　　The fog was gone, save for occasional wisps of white mist,but the day had not yet come, and the night was by no meanslight. When they looked back again they could not see any of theIndian canoes. Apparently they had retreated into the floodedforest. Henry and Sol held a consultation.

　　"It's hard to pull up stream," said Henry, "and we'd exhaustourselves doing it. Besides, if the Indians chose to renew thepursuit, that would cut us off from our own purpose. We mustdrop down the river toward the Spanish camp."

　　"You're always right, Henry," said the shiftless one withconviction. "The Spaniards o' course, know nothin' about ourfight, ez they wuz much too fur off to hear the shots, an', ez wego down that way, the savages likely will think that we belong tothe party, which is too strong for them to attack. This must besome band that Braxton Wyatt don't know nothin' about. Maybeit's a gang o' southern Indians that's come away up here incanoes."

　　The boat swung close to the western shore, which wasoverhung throughout by heavy forests, and then dropped silentlydown until it came within two miles of the Spanish camp. There,in a particularly dark cove, they tied up to a tree, and drewmighty breaths of relief. Both Henry and Paul felt an intensegladness. Despite all the dangers and hardships through whichthey had gone, they were but boys.