"Less'n a mile below Hog Point; it looked like there was more'n a hundred vessels."
"You'd better not count on stoppin' long at Benedict," Darius cried as he motioned for us to take up the paddles again, and before the captain of the pungy had time to ask a question, we were beyond earshot.
"It may be the fleet that's bound for Baltimore," I suggested, not being prepared at that time to believe the enemy would attempt to take large vessels far enough up the river to disturb our fleet.
"I allow some of 'em are headin' Baltimore way," Darius replied grimly; "but you'll find that a good many of the fleet will make a try at stirrin' up Joshua Barney."
I knew the old man believed all he said, because from this out when we were come to a bend in the river we would steer the canoe close up to the bank, and slow down until he made certain that the next reach did not have in it any of the enemy's craft.
In this cautious manner we ran down stream perhaps five miles below Benedict, when, on rounding a bend, we saw no less than four armed vessels, with a dozen or fourteen barges, not more than a mile away.
"Back water, lads!" Darius cried sharply, swinging the canoe's stern around with the steering paddle. "Here's where we find our work. I'd like it better if you wasn't so nearly fagged out; but I reckon we can make five miles more before you give in."
He had turned the canoe while speaking, and we were running up stream in less than two minutes after having sighted the Britishers.
"Five miles should bring us to Benedict," I suggested.
"Ay, lad, an' that's where we'll make the first stop."