"I musn't miss," she said to herself, sighting the weapon, "for if ever there was a case of self-defense this is one."
All remained quiet while she carefully drew a bead at the foremost figure. Before her aim was sure, she recognized her target as Jake Golcher.
She was startled, and for an instant undecided; but she could not shoot him, even though he deserved it. She slightly swerved the point of her piece, hoping to strike one of the Indians, with the result, however, that she missed altogether.
"Maggie," said Aunt Peggy, with rasping severity, "I've a mind to box your ears; you missed that Tory on purpose; you ought to be ashamed of yourself; I'll tell your father what a perjurer you are."
"I could not do it," replied Maggie, smiling in spite of herself at the spiteful earnestness of her relative.
"Then load up and try it again."
"Time is too precious to delay for loading guns and shooting at our old acquaintances, even if they are Tories."
Aunt Peggy was wise enough to see that Maggie could not be dictated to under such circumstances. She, therefore, held her peace, and watched the young lady, who applied the pole with a vigor hardly second to that of Gravity in his efforts of another kind to force the scow through the water.
Under their joint labors the clumsy craft advanced with considerable speed, every minute taking it farther from the shots that still came from the enemies they were leaving behind.
By and by, the African, while kicking, struck bottom with one foot. With the leverage thus obtained, he shoved the boat faster than before.