h our going ashore there, Deck?"

"The water in the river has a tendency to flow straight ahead, Ben; I
learned that at Big Bend, on the Green River, near Riverlawn."

"I know the place very well," added Ben.

"When we come to the bend below the village, the current will be likely
to shoot us over near the opposite shore."

"But that will take us to the wrong side of the river, and we shall
have to get across it afterwards; and, besides, the enemy will be on
that side."

"I don't figure it out in just that way, Ben; for the current will take
us to the north side of the stream. The river turns to the left, or
south; but the water wants to go straight ahead, and that will cast us
on the side where we are now: don't you see?"

"Well, I don't see. I am no boatman, and I won't raise any objection,"
replied Ben. "Here is your paddle. I had to cut it out in the dark, and
work by faith, and not by sight, so that it is not handsome."

"It does first rate, Ben; but we shall have to do some hard work in
holding the tender to the shore when the current throws it on the bank;
and probably it is just as high as it is at the fort."

"I will do my share of the work if you will tell me how, Deck."

In a few minutes more the boat began to feel the current as it came to
the bend, and they could hear the roar of the water as it was dashed
against the shore. With the paddle Ben had made, Deck contrived to keep
the tender from whirling about, though he had to work very hard to do
so. With the bow pointed to the shore, which he could now make out in
the gloom of the night, she was going ahead very rapidly, having now
the full force of the stream.

"What am I to do, Deck?" demanded Ben, who did not feel at all at home
while the craft was in the midst of her gyrations.

"The boat is going head on against the shore; but I don't know what
sort of a landing-place it will prove to be. But whatever it is, take
the painter in your hand"--

"Who?" cried Ben.

"The painter. The rope made fast at your end of the tender," replied
the skipper of the craft impatiently; for the sergeant was entirely
ignorant of nautical terms. "Take the end of the rope in your hand, and
jump ashore as soon as it touches the land."

"All right; I understand you now," responded Ben, as he seized the
painter, and stood up in the fore-sheets as well as the rolling of the
boat in the current would permit.

"Now for it!" shouted Deck, as he felt the bottom of th