They did so, and kept up the calls for fully five minutes. Then from a distance an answer came back.
"Who's dat a-calling?" came in a rich negro voice.
"We are," answered Mark. "Two boys."
"Whar is you-uns?"
"Up a tree near the river. Our boat drifted away and your dogs treed us."
"Am dat so? Did you say two boys?"
"Yes."
"Is you-uns armed?"
"If we were you'd have some dead dogs around here," put in Bob.
"What fo' you-uns come ashoah?" asked the voice, and now a burly negro put in an appearance under the tree. He had a smoky barn lantern in one hand and a stout club in the other.