"They won't stand much show if the Indians attack them in earnest," observed the captain, "there ain't a bit of shelter on that island and it ain't hardly a foot above water."
As the little party gazed eagerly upon the scene, the next act in the grim tragedy occurred.
"Look," exclaimed Charley, "they didn't fasten their canoe and it is drifting away. They are so busy watching the Indians that they haven't noticed it yet."
A yell of dismay from the convicts soon told that they had discovered their loss. A few dashed down to the water as though they would plunge in after the drifting craft, but they evidently lacked the courage to face the bullets that would surely greet them if they ventured the act, for they stopped at the water's edge and soon returned to the breastworks of sand.
An Indian paddled out from the circle of canoes and securing the drifting craft, towed it back to the others.
"Just look," exclaimed Walter, "I wonder what the Seminoles mean by that move."
The others gazed eagerly with many exclamations of astonishment.
The circle of besieging canoes was breaking up, first one dropped out of the circle, then another, until the whole fleet had formed in one long, unbroken line. Paddles flashed in the water and the long line came sweeping gracefully on past the little island.
"You may hang me to the cross-trees, if they ain't agoin' to let them scoundrels go," cried the captain in disgust.
"It certainly looks like it," admitted Charley, sadly. "All they have to do is to swim to shore and make their way out on foot."