"No, dear," replied Dan, with a smile at her fears; "I am going to pretend to be a sportsman. As we can't get out of the way of the steamer, I intend to be as bold and impudent as I can. There, go to your cabin now, and we will hope for the best."
Lily retired to the cabin, closed the door after her, and threw herself on her knees to pray for the safety of herself and her friends during the impending peril. In the mean time, Dan walked up and down the deck, with the gun in his hand, apparently looking in all directions for game. Just as the steamboat came within hailing distance of the Isabel, a couple of brant fortunately flew over, and Dan fired. His practice in the swamp had made him a very good marksman, and he was so lucky as to bring down one of the birds. Cyd, as before instructed, pulled with all his might to the spot where the game had fallen.
"Possifus!" shouted he; "massa fotch dat bird down, for shore!"
When he uttered this exclamation the bateau was within a few yards of the steamer, and the few passengers on board of her, anxious to see the sport, hastened to the boiler deck, and thus obtained a full view of the Isabel, as she rounded in under her stern, on her way to the plantation, where she evidently intended to make a landing.
"Any news below?" shouted Dan, hailing the steamer as she approached.
"By Heaven! that's my boat and my boy!" exclaimed a gentleman on the boiler deck, as the steamer glanced by the Isabel. "Stop the boat! Stop her!"
It was Colonel Raybone!