"Aspetta!" thundered the voice on shore more savagely. "Aspetta o tiriamo!"
"By Jove! The sands!" cried Wrenmarsh. "There's a brook there—the bottom's quicksand. They daren't try to cross."
"Quicksand?" echoed Tab. "How'd they come there, then?"
"They must have thought we were on the other side of the stream. They've come up on the wrong bank, and now they can't get over."
Bang! There was a quick, loud report, and Jerry heard the wht of a carbine ball close astern.
"Great Scott!" he shouted. "Douse that glim! Pull! Pull!"
Wrenmarsh seized the lantern and dipped it overboard, an effective if irregular way of quenching it.
Bang! Bang! Two more shots. One of the men, Hunter, pulling on the third thwart, afterward swore that he felt the wind of the second bullet.
Bang!
"Pull hard, men! Steady!" cried Jerry.