There could be no question but that he was right, and I sat staring at him like a stupid, the dreams in which I had been indulging disappearing like mist before the morning sun. Of a verity mother and the children were further from me than when we had crouched in the smoke-house at Washington with General Ross' army close at hand. "What _can_ we do?" I asked at length. "That's a question easier asked than answered," the old man replied as if he had come to an end of his ideas. "While your father is wounded beyond the power of walkin', we're anchored to the pungy, so to speak." "What would you do if he was in good shape?" "It couldn't be such a terrible tough voyage to strike across the country from here to Benedict, leavin' the pungy in the creek till the Britishers get tired of foolin' around in the Potomac; but it's no use to spend breath on what can't be done. Our crew will hang together, whatever comes. Let's go an' report; it won't do us any good to stay here." We paddled slowly back to our comrades, and when we had told them the situation of affairs they were in as much of a muddle as had been Darius and I. "There's no tellin' how long the frigates will stay 'round Washington," Captain Hanaford said, and then, as a sudden thought came to him, he added, "I'm gettin' the best of this scrape, I reckon. If the pungy was where you lads found her, she'd fare badly when the bloomin' Englishmen get where they can make mischief." "I'll stay here and keep ship, while the rest of you walk across lots to Benedict," my father suggested; but Darius refused to hear any such proposition, declaring as he had when we were in the canoe, that our party should hang together to the last. "So far as bodily harm is concerned, we're safe here till the cows come home," the old man said thoughtfully, "an' that oughter make us feel reasonably good, seein's how, one spell, it looked a deal like bein' killed, or stayin' in a British prison-ship. We're a mighty poor crowd if we can't manage to lay still a week or two." It did really seem as if we had reason to be ashamed of grumbling when matters had been so much worse, and I mentally resolved that I would make the best of the situation, even though we were forced to remain in hiding a full month. My father did his best at cheering us by saying, and with a deal of reason in his speech, that the enemy would not dare remain shut up in the river very long, lest the American fleet come to the mouth of the river and blockade him, or with a superior force, force him to surrender. "It's Captain Gordon of the Sea Horse, who is in command," Bill Jepson said, "an' you can count that he won't be caught nappin'." "Then we can reckon on bein' free to leave this creek within three or four days at the outside, and after that it'll be a question of dodging the Britishers into Chesapeake bay, which shouldn't be a hard task."