ther’ wasn’t no boat there!  Steve kind o’ tuck the lead, and we all talked in whispers.  And Steve said to kind o’ lay low and maybe we could hear somepin’, and some feller said he thought he heerd somepin’ strange like, but the wind was kind o’ raisin’ and kep’ up sich a moanin’ through the trees along the bank ’t we couldn’t make out nothin’.  “Listen!” says Steve, suddent like, “I hear somepin!” We was all still again—­and we all heerd a moanin’ ’at was sadder ’n the wind—­sounded mournfuller to me ’cause I knowed it in a minute, and I whispered, “Little Annie.”  And ’way out acrost the river we could hear the little thing a-sobbin’, and we all was still ’s death; and we heerd a voice we knowd was Bills’s say, “Dam ye!  Keep still, or I’ll drownd ye!” And the wind kind o’ moaned agin and we could hear the trees a-screechin’ together in the dark, and the leaves a-rustlin’; and when it kind o’ lulled agin, we heerd Bills make a kind o’ splash with the oars; and jist then Steve whispered far to lay low and be ready—­he was a-goin’ to riconnitre; and he tuck his coat and shoes off, and slid over the bank and down into the worter as slick as a’ eel.  Then ever’thing was still agin, ‘cept the moanin’ o’ the child, which kep’ a-gittin’ louder and louder; and then a voice whispered to us, “He’s a-comin’ back; the crowd below has sent scouts up, and they’re on t’ other side.  Now watch clos’t, and he’s our meat.”  We could hear Bills, by the moanin’ o’ the baby, a-comin’ nearder and nearder, tel suddently he made a sort o’ miss-lick with the oar, I reckon, and must a splashed the baby, far she set up a loud cryin; and jist then old Ezry, who was a-leanin’ over the bank, kind o’ lost his grip some way o’ nuther, and fell kersplash in the worter like a’ old chunk.  “Hello!” says Bills, through the dark, “you’re there, too, air ye?” as old Ezry splashed up the bank agin.  And “Cuss you!” he says then, to the baby—­“ef it hadn’t be’n far your infernal squawkin’ I’d a-be’n all right; but you’ve brought the whole neighberhood out, and, dam you, I’ll jist let you swim out to ’em!” And we heerd a splash, then a kind o’ gurglin’, and then Steve’s voice a-hollerin’, “Close in on him, boys; I’ve got the baby!” And about a dozend of us bobbed off the bank like so many bull-frogs, and I’ll tell you the worter b’iled!  We could jist make out the shape o’ the boat, and Bills a-standin’ with a’ oar drawed back to smash the first head ’at come in range.  It was a mean place to git at him.  We knowed he was despert, and far a minute we kind o’ helt back.  Fifteen foot o’ worter ’s a mighty onhandy place to git hit over the head in!  And Bills says, “You hain’t afeard, I reckon—­twenty men agin one!” “You’d better give your se’f up!” hollered Ezry from the shore.  “No, Brother Sturgiss,” says Bills, “I can’t say ’at I’m at all anxious ‘bout bein’ borned agin, jist yit awhile,” he says; “I see you kind o’ ’pear to go in far babtism; guess you’d better go home and git some dry clothes