"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.
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