No answer, and the raft sped silently by.
"Halt, there!" shouted the sentinel, running after the vessel. "Halt, I say, or I will fire on you."
He paused, raised his bow and let fly an arrow. It was well aimed and sank into a log close by the head of Highjinks. Indeed it pierced his Scotch bonnet and tore it from his head. This fidgety Brownie could no longer be restrained, and although the raft had now been carried quite out of reach, he leaped to his feet, pulled out the arrow, waved it and his bonnet above his head, and called to the sentinel, whom he knew well:
"Say, old chappie, save your shots for Pixies. Don't you see, you rascal, you've spoiled my hat, and—"
"Lie down, you ninnie," cried Twadeils in a whisper, "you'll give us away! We'll be stopped, taken back to camp, and put in the guard house, every one of us!"
Thereupon several Brownies quietly pulled Highjinks down upon the logs. By this time the raft had swung round a clump of brushwood, leaving the sentinel gazing in a dazed way after the mysterious vessel. Scarcely had they rounded the point when a huge Pixie darted from the grasses near them, and, after making a few rapid strides upon the current, dived into the stream.
"Hello! here's game," cried Twadeils. "Stop the raft a moment." Ferrie swung the bow around. Saddler and Barnit seized the ropes and jumped into the nearest bushes; then holding back lustily, the clumsy vessel was soon stopped.
"Now get her up to the place where the Pixie went down," said Twadeils. "I know him well. He is one of the Dolomede band of water-pixies. Sixpoint Dolomede they call him. Steady, here he is!"
Looking down into the water the Brownies saw Sixpoint clinging to the stem of an overflowed plant.
"What a curious looking creature he is!" exclaimed Hosson. "He has put on a coat of armor that shines like silver even through the water. How did he get it?"