“Lie down all who can,” cried the lieutenant; and we waited for the next shot, which, to be rather Irish, was half-a-dozen in a scattered volley.
But though the twigs and leaves came showering down, no one was hit; and the coxswain steadily poled us along as fast as the progress of the other boat would allow.
I saw that Mr Reardon was on the qui vive to order a return of the fire; but so far we could not see from whence it came, and it seemed as if nothing could be done but keep steadily on with our retreat.
“They might have given us another half-hour, Herrick,” he said. “I should like to get the boys on board unhurt.”
“Think they can get on ahead, sir?” I whispered.
“I hope not. The forest on each side is so dense that I don’t fancy they can get along any faster than we do. Make haste, my lads, make haste,” he said, almost in a whisper; “we shall have it dark here under these trees before long.”
Crash came another volley, accompanied by a savage yelling, but we were so low down between the muddy banks that again the slugs went pattering over our heads.
“Would you mind passing the word to the other boat, messmate,” said a familiar voice. “Tell ’em not to hurry themselves, as we’re very comfortable.”
“Who’s that? Silence!” cried Mr Reardon.
No reply came to his question, but I could hear the men chuckling.