Paul could
see the branches and twigs showing overhead through the white fog like
lace work, but everything else was invisible twenty feet away. All heard,
however, now and then the faint splash, splash of paddles, perhaps a
hundred yards distant. Henry tried to tell from the sounds how many war
canoes might be in the party, and he hazarded a wild guess of twenty. As
he listened, the splash grew a little louder. Obviously the canoes were
keeping on the right course. Shif'less Sol wet his finger and held it up.
When he took it down he whispered in some alarm to Henry:
"The wind has begun to blow, an' it's shore to rise. It'll blow the fog
away, an' we'll lay in plain sight o' all o' them savages."
Henry's instinct for generalship rose at once and he saw a plan.
"We must keep on for midstream," he said. "We know what direction that
is, and, out in open water, we'd have one advantage even over their
numbers. Theirs are only light canoes, while ours is a big strong boat
that will shelter us from any bullet. Pull away, boys! I'll help Sol keep
up the watch."
The boat once more resumed its progress toward the main current. The wind,
as Sol had predicted, rapidly grew stronger. The deep curtain of fog began
to thin and lighten.
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