“We’ve made a big start, anyway,” said Carl rejoicing as he ate.
“Yes, but only a start,” returned Bob. “When does that steamboat come back? Day after to-morrow? It’ll take us all our time to get that stuff moved before to-morrow night.”
“Why not tackle it again to-night?” Joe suggested. “We can make fires and torches to give us light enough to shovel by.”
They were all tired, and gummed up with rosin, but after they had eaten and rested for an hour the proposition seemed less unattractive. They took to the flatboat again, carrying torches of fat-pine, and at the treasure-place they lighted a fire of pine and lumps of rosin that gave out a smoky and lurid illumination. It was enough to shovel by, as Joe said, but it was a disquieting fact that the glare could be seen a long way off. However, if the river-men were anywhere in the vicinity they would be sure to come up within a few hours in any case, so the fire-light could do nothing but hasten the danger a little.
They kept their firearms handy while they worked, and half a dozen times there was a sudden alarm, a halt, and a hasty grabbing of guns. But these alarms all turned out false. They floated the load down to the barge without interruption, transferred it, and went back for another. This one also moved in safety, and their nervousness began to subside.
For hour after hour they worked, shoveling, poling, shoveling, carrying the heavy stretcher, in the hot, wet atmosphere of the swamp, in the orange glare of the rosin-fed fire. They streamed with sweat; mosquitoes buzzed in clouds, but no one had time to notice them. Load after load went down the bayou and was shoveled into the barge, until, an hour after midnight, their endurance gave out.
“Better knock off,” Bob advised. “No use overdoing it; and we’ve got a heavy day to-morrow.”
They ate another late supper, nodding with exhaustion, barely able to keep awake. Carl suggested doubtfully that some one ought to stand sentry, but they were all too tired to care. They tumbled into their various couches, and went almost instantly to sleep. Joe felt that Carl’s suggestion was right; he made a faint attempt to keep awake for some time, but he awoke suddenly with a start and found gray dawn in the air. It was morning; a heavy mist lay on the swamp and the bayou. Everything was undisturbed. The cabin had not been burned during the night, and the rest of his party were still soundly asleep.
He got up, feeling sore and stiff, and awakened the others. Breakfast was a rather silent and glum meal, but the influence of hot food and coffee spread by degrees through their muscles, and they mustered up energy to attack the big task again.
They had made progress the night before. A great end of the rosin heap was gone, perhaps a third of it. And the barge was nearly half filled. It was doubtful if they would be able to take away the whole of the mound.