The sentinel felt that his hour had come, and he began to patter his
prayers in his throat, but the two Americans, the one before him, and the
one who had grasped him from behind, did not slay him at once. Instead
they said words together in their harsh tongue. Then they tore pieces from
the sentinel's clothing, made a wad of it and pressed it into his mouth.
They also tied a strip from the same clothing over his mouth and behind
his head, and, still despoiling his clothing, they bound him hand and foot
and laid him in the bushes, where he was invisible to his comrades and
could only see a sky in which a few dim stars danced. But on the whole he
was glad. They had not killed him as he had expected, and the gag in his
mouth was soft. Moreover, his comrades would surely find him in time and
release him.
Henry and Shif'less Sol turned away and smiled again at each other.
"Not much trouble, that," whispered the shiftless one. "He wuz shorely a
skeered Spaniard ef I kin read a man's face. Guess he wuz glad to get off
ez easy ez he did. Now fur the boat!"
"Here we are," said Henry. "We must pitch out the two men sleeping in
it--you take one and I'll take the other--and then we must seize the oars
and pull like mad, because the whole camp will be up.
Pages:
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80