d heavy. It was the most uncanny thing in all Paul's experience.
Beyond a doubt they were surrounded by savage 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 the swimmers may have
been scouts and skirmishers. They know where we are, but we don't know
where they are."

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

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

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

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

The others nodded and waited. A long cry, quavering at first, and then
rising to a fierce top note to die away later in a ferocious, wolfish
whine came through the fog. It was uttered by many throats, and in the
uncanny, whitish gloom it seemed to be on all sides of them. Then shouts
and shots both ceased and the 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 through the water with
extreme caution and slowness. All knew that sharp ears were listening in
the flooded forest, and the splash of oars would bring the war canoes at
once. But they were determined that the fog which was such a help to
their enemies should be an equal help to them also.

Slowly the heavy boat crept through the water. Paul, at the tiller,
steered with judgment and craft, and his was no light task. Now and then
low boughs were lapped in the water and bushes submerged to their tops
grew in the way. To become tangled in them might be fatal and to scrape
against them would be a signal to their enemies, but Paul steered clear
every time.

Th