Chapter 6: 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 a whale.”

“Seems to me,” said Tom Ross, “that I wuz waked up kinder suddint a few hours ago. I wuz in the middle uv a most bee-yu-ti-ful nap, and I know right whar I stopped it. I’m goin’ back an’ pick up that nap at the exact place whar I left off.”

Without another word he pulled his blanket over him and stretched himself on a seat. In a minute or two he was sound asleep. Tom Ross was a veteran campaigner. He not only knew what to do, but he could and would do it.

“Paul, you and Jim follow him,” said Henry, “I’ll keep what’s left of the watch with Sol.”

Jim was treading the easy path of slumber in five minutes, but it took Paul at least ten to pass through the gates. Henry and Sol sat in the boat, silent but watchful.

“We’re between two fires,” whispered Henry at last. “I don’t think that war party will give up just yet, and maybe we’d better stick here in the woods for a while, on the chance that they think we belong to the Spanish force and have rejoined it.”

“We’ve got to stay in hidin’ fur a spell, that’s shore,” said Shif’less Sol. “We might stick here all day. We kin overtake the Spaniards any time, cause we have only one road to foller an’ that’s the river.”

Henry nodded and they settled back to the watch and silence. Their three comrades stretched on seats, lockers, or the boat’s bottom, slept soundly, and they could hear their regular breathing. But they heard nothing else save the light lapping of the water against the tree trunks.

Dawn came, golden and beautiful. Tom Ross opened his eyes.

“Anything happened?” he asked.

“No,” replied Henry, “and we are not going to move yet. Sleep on.”

Tom closed his eyes again, and in a minute was back in the pleasant land of slumber. The other two did not awake and Henry and Sol still did not stir. From the leafy arbor in which “The Galleon” was moored, they were intently watching the surface of the river. An hour passed and the sun rose higher and higher, flooding the surface of the great stream with golden beams.

“Do you see anything, Henry?” asked Sol.

“Yes, I think there’s a canoe among the trees on the opposite shore.”

“I reckoned that I saw it, too, but I wuzn’t certain. Must be a scout canoe.”

“Do you see anything to the southward, Sol?”

“I reckoned that I saw somethin’ thar, too, an’ I took it fur smoke.”

“The Spanish camp, of course.”

“O’ course.”

“And I think the Indians are spying upon it. They are quite sure now that we were a part of the Spanish force.”

“They think they know it, an’ they’ll hang ‘roun’ until to-night, when they’re more’n likely to shoot into the Spanish camp.”

“Which won’t hurt us, Sol.”

“Not a leetle bit. We kin sing all the time, ‘dog eat dog, go it one, go it tother.’”

“Instead of singing,” said Henry smiling, “we can put in most of the time sleeping.”

“Both please me,” said Shif’less Sol, rubbing his hands gleefully.

Everything befell as they thought it would. Other canoes appeared at the edge of the wood on the far shore, but on every occasion further down the river. There was no doubt in the minds of the watchful observers aboard “The Galleon” that they were spying upon the Spanish camp and meditated an attack at night. It was equally certain that the Spaniards knew nothing of the Indians’ presence. All the five were now awake and they rejoiced at the prospect.

“I see an easy day comin’ to me,” said Shif’less Sol luxuriously. “‘Tain’t often that a lazy man like me kin hev sech a good time an’ I’m goin’ to make the most o’ it.”

“I think,” said Henry, “that while the Indians are busy with the Spaniards we’d better try to fix up that sail. We don’t need a tent and we do need a sail. Some time or other, when we get in a pinch, the sail might do the pulling, leaving the rowers free to use their rifles.”

“Jest ez I might hev expected,” said Sol in a tone of disgust. “All ready for rest, fixed fur it most bee-yu-ti-ful-ly, an’ told instead that I must go to work. This world shorely ain’t kind to a good man.”

Once more the staunch ship, “The Galleon,” proved herself to be a treasure house. They found in the lockers plenty of rope and stout cord, and they cut in the forest a stout young sapling which they made of the right length, peeled off the bark, and adjusted in rude fashion, as a mast. They also made a boom and then rigged a single sail, somewhat after the fashion of the cat-boat of the present day.

This would have been an impossible task to them, had not “The Galleon” been so well provided with axes, saws, hammers, other valuable tools, and cord and nails. The mast could be taken down in an emergency, but they were all of the opinion that the sail would draw, and draw well. It might not always be easy to control it, but “The Galleon” was built in Spanish fashion, heavy, deep, and square, and it would take a great deal to make her capsize.

While the others worked one watched, and the boats of the Indians were seen again at the edge of the far forest. The last time they saw them they were so far down that they were almost opposite the point where the Spaniards lay, which indicated two things to them, first the certainty that Alvarez had not moved, and second that “The Galleon” and her crew were absolutely safe for the time being, where they lay.

“I suppose that Alvarez is in no hurry and decided to take a day of rest,” said Henry.

They finished their own labors late in the afternoon and contemplated the mast and sail with pride.

“Now that it’s done, I’m glad that it hez been done,” said Shif’less Sol. “It’ll save me a lot o’ work hereafter. It would be jest like you fellers to make me git callous spots all over the inside o’ my hands, when the hide on Jim Hart’s is already so thick it wouldn’t hurt him to do all his rowin’ an’ mine, too.”

“I jest love to see you work, Sol,” said Long Jim Hart. “I can’t enjoy my rest real good, ‘less at the same time I’m layin’ on my back watchin’ you heavin’ away.”

Nevertheless, all took a long rest though maintaining a vigilant watch, and, with pleasure, they saw a dark night come on. When the twilight was completely gone they steered once more for the main stream, not using their sail yet, because of the boughs and bushes.

“We’ve got to keep in the edge of the forest,” whispered Henry, and in that manner they crept cautiously southward. After a while they stopped suddenly and all exclaimed together. They distinctly heard the sound of rifle shots straight toward the south and perhaps a mile away.

“The savages hev attacked,” said Shif’less Sol in a whisper. “Go it, Spaniard, go it, Injun, one may lick and tother may lick, but whether one may lick tother or tother lick which. I don’t care.”

They pulled a little nearer to the last line of trees in the water and there off to the south they saw the little pinkish dots that marked the rifle and musket fire. It was too far away for them to see anything else, but they heard distinctly the intermittent crackle of the shots.

“Neither will win,” said Henry. “The Spaniards are too strong to be defeated, but they won’t venture the unknown terrors of the river at night. The Indians, who are in their canoes, will draw off when they find they are not doing much harm.”

“Wish we could put up that sail,” said Shif’less Sol, who was still at the oars. “I’m shore gittin’ a callous lump in the pa’m o’ my hand.”

“It wouldn’t do, Sol,” said Henry. “We’re going to run past a battle, and we mean to lie as low as possible.”

Paul again steered, Henry sat, rifle in hand, and the others rowed. They took a diagonal course across the stream once more, but this time toward the eastern shore. They advanced slowly, hugging the dark. Fortunately there was no moon and the dusk came close up to the boat.

“That’s a right noisy fight,” said Shif’less Sol, looking toward the south, where pink and red spots of flame still appeared in the dark and the rattling fire of rifle and musket grew louder.

“More noise than anything else,” said Tom Ross, “but it keeps ‘em pow’ful busy an’ that’s a good thing fur us.”

They were now near the flooded forest on the eastern shore, and they moved slowly along in its shadow, still watching the distant battle. It lightened a little, the rim of a moon came out, and they saw toward the western bank the dark silhouettes of canoes moving back and forth on the water. Flashes came from the canoes and returning flashes came from the bank.

“Go it, Spaniard, go it, Injun, go it, one, go it, tother,” muttered Shif’less Sol again.

“The Galleon” slowly passed by in the darkness. The pink and red dots went out and the sound of the rifle fire died behind hem. They could neither see nor hear anything more of the battle, and all were of the opinion that it would soon cease by a sort of mutual agreement of the contestants.

Paul once more turned the head of the boat toward the middle of the stream, and she swung gaily into the current, where her speed soon increased greatly.

“We can fix up our mast and hoist our sail now,” said Henry. “Since there is nobody to look, it won’t hurt us to make speed for a while.”

It required some time and exertion to put the mast in place and then they unfurled the sail. They were rather clumsy about it from lack of experience, but the tent cloth filled with the north wind, and “The Galleon” leaped forward in the water, her broad nose parting the stream swiftly, while the youthful hearts of Henry and Paul swelled with exultation.

Shif’less Sol drew in his oars and bestowed upon the sail a look of deep approval.

“That’s the most glorious sight that hez met the eyes o’ a tired man in a year,” he said. “Blow, Mr. Wind, blow! an’ let me rest.”

The others also rested, but Sol and Henry put all their attention upon the boom and sail. They did not intend to be wrecked by ignorance or any sudden flaw in the wind. The breeze, however, was steady and strong, and “The Galleon” continued to move gallantly before it.

They sailed for three or four hours and during the latter part of the time they coasted along the western bank. There they came to the mouth of a small river, thickly lined on both shores with gigantic trees.

“I think we’d better take down our sail and run up this,” said Henry. “We can go back some distance and hide close to the bank. The Spaniards of course will not dream of coming up it, and we can stay here until they go by.”

“A safe and pleasant haven as long as it is needed,” said Paul.

They took down the sail and pulled at least a mile up the little river. There they tied close to the bank, and, happy over their success, sought sleep, all except the watch, the night passing without disturbance.

The day came, again unclouded and beautiful, and the five regarded it, the boat, and themselves with a great deal of satisfaction.

“I’m thinkin’ that our treasure ship, the gall-yun, ought to hev the most credit,” said Shif’less Sol. “She brought us past all them warrin’ people in great style. Without her we’d hev a hard time, follerin’ the Spaniards to New Or-lee-yuns.”

After breakfast they remained awhile in the boat, content to lie still and await events. Everywhere around them was the deep forest, oak, hickory, chestnut, maple, elm, and all the other noble trees that flourish in the great valley. Just above them was a low point in the hank of the little river and they could see that it was trodden by many feet.

“Game comes down to drink thar,” said Shif’less Sol.

“Lie still and let’s see,” said Paul. The boat was almost hidden in the thick foliage that overhung the river, and nobody on it stirred. Two deer presently walked gingerly to the water, drank daintily, and then walked as gingerly away. Soon a black bear followed them and shambled to the water’s edge. He looked up and down the stream, but he saw nothing and the wind blowing from him toward the boat brought no dread odor to his sensitive nostrils. He drank, wrinkled his face in a comical manner, scratched himself with his left paw, and then shambled away. Shif’less Sol laughed.