‘Was that the way of it?’ said Lucius. ‘At first I thought that somebody had fired at you from the bank.’
‘By time!’ exclaimed Ephraim, the colour rushing back into his face, and his nerves steeling again as he heard this. ‘I tell ye, bub, that’s ezackly what they will be doin’ before very long. Why, don’t ye know, the sound er that rifle-shot’ll bring the Yanks down on us quicker ’n ennything. Luce, we must do suthin’.’
‘What are we to do?’ asked Lucius helplessly. ‘If we could not manage the boat when we had both guns, what shall we do now that we have only one?’
‘Waal, then,’ inquired Ephraim drily, ‘do ye want ter set still hyar while the Yanks make a target er ye? I tell ye I don’t feel that way myself.’ He made a wry face at the thought of his recent experience.
‘I don’t either, you may be sure,’ answered Lucius. ‘But something must be done.—I have it, Grizzly; I have it.’
‘What hev ye struck?’ queried Ephraim, roused by the hope in his voice.
‘Why, of course,’ replied Lucius, ‘let us swim ashore and leave the ugly old boat to take care of herself.’
‘Bullee!’ cried Ephraim, unbuckling his cartridge belt and flinging it into the bottom of the boat. ‘Bullee! So we will. Let’s——Thar’s just one thing agin it, though, Luce,’ he broke off dismally.
‘What’s that?’ demanded Lucius, who had already removed his belts and taken off his coat. ‘What’s against it?’
‘Why,’ answered Ephraim, looking as shamefaced as if he had been confessing to a grievous sin, ‘it ain’t much, maybe; but I reckon it’s enuff. I can’t swim.’