"There has been no alarm, at least not yet, and we're near the middle of the river. The canoe must be invisible, although I can see the fires on either shore. Now, Sol, we'll turn down stream and paddle with all our might, showing what canoemen we really are!" It was with actual physical as well as mental joy that they turned the prow of the canoe toward the southeast, that is, with the current, and began to do their best with the paddles. They no longer had that horrible fear of a bullet in the back, and muscles seemed to leap together with the spirit into greater strength and elasticity. "Come on you, Henry," said Shif'less Sol exultantly. "Keep up your side! Prove that you're jest ez good a man with the paddle ez me! We ain't makin' more'n a mile a minute, an' fur sech ez we are that's nothin' but standin' still!" The two bent their powerful backs a little and their great arms swept the paddles through the water at an amazing rate. The soul of Shif'less Sol surged up to the heights. He became dithyrambic and he spoke in a tone not loud, but full of concentrated fire and feeling. "Fine, you Henry, you!" he said. "But we kin do better! The canoe is goin' fast, but one or two canoes in the hist'ry o' the world hez gone ez fast! We must go faster by ten or fifteen miles an hour an' set the record that will stan'! It's so dark in here I can't see either bank, but I wish sometimes I could, warriors or no warriors! Then I could see 'em whizzin' by, jest streaks, with all the trees and bushes meltin' into one another like a green ribbon! Now, that's the way to do it, Henry! Our speed is jumpin'! I ain't shore whether the canoe is touchin' the water or not! I think mebbe it's jest our paddles that dip in, an' that the canoe is flyin' through the air! An' not a soun' from 'em yet! They haven't discovered that the wrong warriors hev took thar boat, but they will soon! Now we'll turn her in toward the southern bank, Henry, 'cause in the battin' o' an eye or two we'll be whar the rest o' the boys are a-lyin' hid in the bushes! Now, slow an' slower! I kin see the trees an' bushes separatin' tharselves, an' thar's the bank, an' now I see the face o' Long Jim, 'bout seven feet above the groun'! He's an onery, ugly cuss, never givin' me all the respeck that's due me, but somehow I like him, an' he never looked better nor more welcome than he does now, God bless the long-armed, long-legged, fightin', gen'rous, kind-hearted cuss! An' thar's Paul, too, lookin' fur all the world like a scholar, crammed full o' book l'arnin', 'stead o' the ring-tailed forest runner, half hoss, half alligator, that he is, though he's got the book l'arnin' an' is one o' the greatest scholars the world ever seed! An' that's Tom Ross, with his mouth openin' ez ef he wuz 'bout to speak a word, though he'll conclude, likely, that he oughtn't, an' all three o' 'em are pow'ful glad to see us comin' in our triumphal Roman gallus that we hev captured from the enemy."