not see any of the Indian canoes. Apparently they had
retreated into the flooded forest. Henry and Sol held a consultation.
"It's hard to pull up stream," said Henry, "and we'd exhaust ourselves
doing it. Besides, if the Indians chose to renew the pursuit, that would
cut us off from our own purpose. We must drop down the river toward the
Spanish camp."
"You're always right, Henry," said the shiftless one with conviction. "The
Spaniards o' course, know nothin' about our fight, ez they wuz much too
fur off to hear the shots, an', ez we go down that way, the savages likely
will think that we belong to the party, which is too strong for them to
attack. This must be some band that Braxton Wyatt don't know nothin'
about. Maybe it's a gang o' southern Indians that's come away up here in
canoes."
The boat swung close to the western shore, which was overhung throughout
by heavy forests, and then dropped silently down until it came within two
miles of the Spanish camp. There, in a particularly dark cove, they tied
up to a tree, and drew mighty breaths of relief. Both Henry and Paul felt
an intense gladness. Despite all the dangers and hardships through which
they had gone, they were but boys.
CHAPTER VI
BATTLE AND STORM
It was yet dark, in fact much darker than it had been just after the fog
lifted, and the dawn was a full three hours away. Although the flooded
area of forest on the western shore was much less than on the eastern, it
was sufficient to furnish ample concealment for the boat, and, when they
tied up amid dense foliage, they could not see the main stream behind
them.
Jim Hart laid down his oars, stood up, and carefully cracked his joints.
"I _am_ tired," he said. "Never wuz I so tired afore in my life."
"But, Jim," said Shif'less Sol, "Think what a pow'ful lively naval battle
you hev been through. Ef you ever git a wife--which I doubt, 'cause you
ain't beautiful, Jim--you kin tell her how once you rowed right over a
great Injun warship. Mebbe, Jim, she'll believe all them fancy details
you'll stick on to it."
"I know I ain't beautiful," said Long Jim thoughtfully, "an' I don't know
ez I want to be, but ef any woman wuz to marry me she'd most likely
believe whatever I told her, bein' ez I hev a truthful countenance, but
ez fur you, Sol, anybody kin tell by lookin' at you that ef you wuz to
ketch in this river a little cat-fish six inches long you'd tell them that
didn't know that it wuz
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