"The Spaniards are too far away to hear," said Henry, "and the next time any wild ducks come near I'm going to try one of these fowling pieces. We need fresh ducks, anyway."
He took out a fowling piece, loaded it carefully with the powder and shot that the locker furnished in abundance and waited his time. By and by a flock of wild ducks flew near and Henry fired into the midst of them. Three lay floating on the water after the shot, and when they took them in Long Jim Hart, a master on all such subjects, pronounced them to be of a highly edible variety.
Paul, meanwhile, took out one of the small swords and examined it critically.
"It is certainly a fine one," he said, "I suppose it's what they call a Toledo blade in Spain, the finest that they make."
"Could you do much with it, Paul?" asked Shif'less Sol.
"I could," replied Paul confidently. "Mr. Pennypacker served in the great French war. He was at the taking of Quebec, and he learned the use of the sword from good masters. He's taught me all the tricks."
"Maybe, then," said Sol laughing, "you'll have to fight Alvarez with one o' them stickers. Ef sech a combat is on it'll fall to you, Paul. The rest of us are handier with rifle an' knife."
"It's never likely to happen," said Paul.
The morning passed peacefully on, and the glory of the heavens was undimmed. The river was a vast, murmuring stream, and the five voyagers felt that, for the present, their task was an easy one. A single man at the oars was sufficient to keep the boat moving as fast as they wished, and the rest occupied themselves with details that might provide for a future need.
Paul brought out one of the beautiful small swords again, and fenced vigorously with an imaginary antagonist. Jim Hart took a captured needle and thread and began to mend a rent in his attire. Henry lifted the folded tent from the locker and looked carefully at the cloth.