"It's a river, shure," said Dan.
"No, there's no river in these parts. I'm certain of that. It must be a creek—part of the sea, in fact."
"Faith, it's small use talkin' about it. It's there, an', begorra, our goose is cooked; we can niver get any further."
"It's a bad lookout."
"An' why shouldn't we swim, Young Glory?"
"And be shot down. How long would it take us to get to the other side? Why, if we escaped the bullets the Spaniards would send after us, we'd find the enemy waiting for us when we landed. That's so, Dan; take my word for it."
Dan turned slowly round. Young Glory regarded him with amazement.
"Where are you going?"
"It's savin' time I want to be. We can't escape. It's yourself said so, an' shure I'll jist go back an' meet the Spaniards."
"Pshaw! We are not captured yet, Dan! There are more ways than one of getting out of a difficulty. We'll keep along by the creek, close to the trees, ready to get amongst them if anybody shows up."