Then, hand in hand and on tiptoe, the two boys crept toward the doorway. As they were stepping over one of the sleeping guards Tubby, by the glow of the fire, saw that a small bag that the fellow had had tied at his waist had burst as he fell headlong in his slumber, and that a lot of odd-looking pebbles lay scattered about near it. Yielding to he knew not what impulse, he stooped and stuffed a handful of the rocks into the pocket of his Scout coat.
It was work to bring the lads’ hearts into their mouths, this advance out upon the open platform with the firelight on them to betray their every movement. Far off they could catch the glow of the Indians’ campfire; but for all they knew other guards might be about and at any minute they expected to hear a spear or an arrow whiz by them. But nothing of the sort happened. They reached the river bank in safety.
The lightning was now flashing incessantly. By its gleam they saw the canoes, with their paddles alongside, lying as they had last seen them. Tubby advanced, and, catching hold of one, turned it over. The next instant he gave a terrified yell. As he had turned it, there had leaped from under it, where he had evidently been sleeping, an Indian armed with a spear.
Before he could cast it, Tubby ducked low and rushed in on the man like a young bullock. The little San Blas native went down in the mud with a splash. Tubby wrested the spear from him and sent it flying. As the Indian struggled to his feet Fred gave him a blow on the mouth that must have driven some of his teeth in, to judge by the sound.
“Quick!” ordered Tubby in a tense undertone, “into the water with those other canoes now.”
“But we only want one.”
“We don’t want ’em to chase us, do we?” exclaimed the fat boy sharply. “Over with ’em I say.”
Fred shoved the two dugouts off. In a jiffy the current caught them and they went sailing out of sight. At the same instant there came another flash of lightning. It showed the river, swollen and angry, racing furiously along.
“Can you handle a paddle, Fred?” asked Tubby.
“Yes; I had a canoe on the Hudson,” was the reply.