"Ef you've stung him in the arm," he said, "it ain't likely that he kin
use that rifle o' his ag'in, an' I notice, too, since you shot that them
oarsmen ain't burnin' up with zeal. Now you row, Henry, while I plunk a
bullet in among 'em, an' they'll burn less than ever."
Shif'less Sol fired. He did not shoot to kill, but his bullet whistled
unpleasantly near the heads of the rowers, and, as he had predicted, they
rapidly lost zeal. The captured boat slid swiftly ahead.
"Here we are among the trees," said Henry. "Now, Sol, keep on rowing and
I'll look out that we don't run into anything."
The swollen waters rose far up on the trunks of the trees, which grew
thickly here, and Sol rowed slowly, making no noise save a slight ripple,
while Henry pushed the prow of the boat away from the trunks and the
bushes. It was very dark here and in a few minutes the pursuing boats were
shut out of sight.
"Thar ain't eyes enough in that Spanish camp to find us now," said
Shif'less Sol.
But they rowed deeper and deeper into the forest, and then, in a cluster
of trees where they could not be seen ten feet away, they stopped and
listened. Not a sound but the lapping of the water came to their ears.
"We'll take a good rest and then row Northward, still keeping in the
forest," said Henry.
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