“They’ve had all they want,” said Henry, as he laid down his rifle and took up the oars again, “but it’s this big heavy boat that’s saved us.  She’s been a regular floating fort.”

“We took our gall-yun just in time,” said Shif’less Sol jubilantly, “an’ she is shore the greatest warship that ever floated on these waters.  Oh, she’s a fine boat, a beautiful boat, the reg’lar King o’ the seas!”

“Queen, you mean,” said Paul, who felt the reaction.

“No, King it is,” replied Sol stoutly.  “A boat that carries travelers may be a she, but shorely one that fights like this is a he.”

The fog was gone, save for occasional wisps of white mist, but the day had not yet come, and the night was by no means light.  When they looked back again they could not see any of the Indian canoes.  Apparently they had retreated into the flooded forest.  Henry and Sol held a consultation.

“It’s hard to pull up stream,” said Henry, “and we’d exhaust ourselves doing it.  Besides, if the Indians chose to renew the pursuit, that would cut us off from our own purpose.  We must drop down the river toward the Spanish camp.”

“You’re always right, Henry,” said the shiftless one with conviction.  “The Spaniards o’ course, know nothin’ about our fight, ez they wuz much too fur off to hear the shots, an’, ez we go down that way, the savages likely will think that we belong to the party, which is too strong for them to attack.  This must be some band that Braxton Wyatt don’t know nothin’ about.  Maybe it’s a gang o’ southern Indians that’s come away up here in canoes.”

The boat swung close to the western shore, which was overhung throughout by heavy forests, and then dropped silently down until it came within two miles of the Spanish camp.  There, in a particularly dark cove, they tied up to a tree, and drew mighty breaths of relief.  Both Henry and Paul felt an intense gladness.  Despite all the dangers and hardships through which they had gone, they were but boys.

CHAPTER VI

BATTLE AND STORM

It was yet dark, in fact much darker than it had been just after the fog lifted, and the dawn was a full three hours away.  Although the flooded area of forest on the western shore was much less than on the eastern, it was sufficient to furnish ample concealment for the boat, and, when they tied up amid dense foliage, they could not see the main stream behind them.

Jim Hart laid down his oars, stood up, and carefully cracked his joints.

“I am tired,” he said.  “Never wuz I so tired afore in my life.”

“But, Jim,” said Shif’less Sol, “Think what a pow’ful lively naval battle you hev been through.  Ef you ever git a wife—­which I doubt, ’cause you ain’t beautiful, Jim—­you kin tell her how once you rowed right over a great Injun warship.  Mebbe, Jim, she’ll believe all them fancy details you’ll stick on to it.”