"They can't hurt us," said Will, and laughed as he heard the rattle of an ineffective volley behind.
"It'll be a near thing, though, if they've got other canoes waiting for us down-stream. Is she going all right?"
"Perfectly. Twenty-five now, and planes beautifully. They won't hit us unless they've had practice with partridges, and if they get in the way they'll come off no better than the jaguar I ran down."
The vessel was skimming along as lightly as a bird. Ruggles gripped the side; he had no experience of this kind of navigation.
"The canoe's out of sight," he said, looking round. "We're level with the hacienda now. Two shots again. They've put a chain of lookouts all down the river."
"Thirty," replied Will, his eyes fixed on Azito, his hands firmly gripping the steering-wheel.
"A canoe putting off from the bank, señor," cried Azito. "Four men in her."
"Right bank?"
"Yes, señor."
"We'll go straight at her. Revolver ready, Ruggles?"