"You've done it, Father!" said Marc, in a tone of quiet exultation.
"Hein!" grunted Tamin. "They don't like the wet!"
The canoe was going down by the bow. The other two craft ranged hurriedly alongside, and took in the gesticulating crew,—all but one, whom they left in the stern to paddle the damaged canoe to land, being loth to lose a serviceable craft. With broken bow high in air the canoe spun around, and sped off up the Basin before the wind. The remaining two resumed the chase of us. We had gained a great space during the confusion, yet they came up upon us fast.
But now, ere I judged them to be within gunshot, they slackened speed.
"They think better of it!" said I, raising the gun again to my shoulder. As I did so they sheered off in haste to a safer distance.
"They are not such fools as I had hoped!" said Marc.
"I so far flatter myself as to think," said I, with some complacency, "that they won't trust themselves willingly again within range of this good barker."
By this we were come well within the wide mouth of the estuary, and a steep, wooded point thrust out upon our right. All at once I muttered a curse upon my dulness.
"What fools we are, to be sure!" I cried. "No reason that we should toil across the mountains to your good man's good boat at Shulie, my Tamin. Put her about, and we'll sail in comfort around to Chignecto; and let these fellows come in range again at their peril!"
"To be sure, indeed!" grunted Tamin; and with a lurch and great flapping we went about.