“Thirty at the lowest calculation, without countin’ them as were hidin’ in the cave. All hands are loafin’ around the entrance, as if not carin’ whether we saw them or not, an’ I reckon they’ve sized us up mighty nigh right.”
“But what are we to do to-night?” Nelse asked, his voice betraying the uneasiness he felt.
“There is only one plan I can think of, which is to get into the tunnel we found.”
“Why, that would be putting ourselves directly in their power!” Nelse cried, and Andy looked at Jenkins as if fancying the mate had suddenly lost his reason.
“When it comes to dots, we are in their power already, and without much chance to defend ourselves, if they should surround us in this thick underbrush. There we could hold our own for a while, at any rate, because not more than one could attack us at a time, an’ our revolvers would keep ’em back a good many hours.”
The boys immediately recognized the force of the argument, as did both the sailors, but Andy was literally beside himself with impatience because such a scheme had been proposed.
“I’se done gone got enuff ob dis yere crowd,” he said, angrily. “When you cotch de old man runnin’ his nose inter de hornet’s nes’ jes’ tell him he’s makin’ a mighty big fool outer hisself. We’se bad enuff hyar widout makin’ it wuss.”
“But, Andy, it really seems to be the best thing we can do,” Gil said, persuasively. “It is as Mr. Jenkins says—we shall at least have a chance of defending ourselves there, and it’s only necessary to hold out until father gets back before the trouble will be at an end. Then we can show these scoundrels a trick or two at hunting which perhaps they won’t appreciate so well.”
“I ’preciate dis yere scrape, an’ ain’ gwine ter put my nose in any mo’,” the old fellow replied, doggedly. “Ef you is boun’ dar, go ahead, an’ Andy’ll kinder grub ’roun’ fur hisself.”
“But we mustn’t separate, you obstinate old man! Can’t you see that there’s a chance, with all this food, of holding our own a good many hours?”