"Aim low," he presently heard Buck say. "The only way to end it is to hit some of "em."
"I wish we had an American flag to run up," thought Ted, as the next volley was fired.
A moment later he forgot this aspiration, as a cry of pain was heard from the slackers" covert.
"Somebody"s. .h.i.t!" cried Peters gaily.
Buck chuckled. Jones laughed aloud. Intense excitement reigned, mingled with a fierce exultation which Ted, as he realized afterward, fully shared.
The three white men and the negro fired again, and were raising their guns once more when Buck suddenly called a halt.
"Hold on," he said. "Looks like they"ve quit. And if they have, we"ll quit, too."
All listened intently and looked cautiously forth. There were now no answering shots. It was evident that the slackers had either "quit" or, as Peters suggested, were "hatching some mischief."
While keeping a wary eye on the open woods behind them, the watchful listeners waited for some sign from the silenced "fort," and presently it came. A white handkerchief rose on the end of a stick and fluttered above the clump of palmettos.
"h.e.l.lo, there!" shouted Buck. "Is that you, Jenkins? It"s got to be Jenkins, or we won"t trust you."
"It"s me," they heard the voice of Jenkins, rather fainter than it had been during the previous parley. "It"s all over, Hardy. You"ve got us.
James and Thatcher have run--they"re in the boats and gone by this time.
n.o.body here but me and Carter."
"Step out, then, and stack your guns."
"We"re both hit, but I reckon we can do that much."
Jenkins came out of cover, limping, and stood his gun against the tree.
Behind him came Carter, dragging his gun with one hand, his other arm hanging limp at his side.
"I reckon it"s all right," said Buck. "But, July, you stay here and keep them boys till we make sure."
Then the three white men, holding their guns in readiness, walked across the open to investigate. Left alone with the boys, July suddenly began to laugh with all the abandon of the happiest of darkies.
"Dat sho was a grand fight," he a.s.sured the boys. "An" what you reckon, Cap"n Ted? Atter I shot once I wasn"t scared. I des "joyed myself shootin" at dem slackers an" list"nin" to de bullets rattlin" round us in dese permeters. I wouldn"t "a" believed it. I sho is a "stonished n.i.g.g.e.r dis mawnin"."
July laughed ecstatically, and before the amused and pleased boys had spoken he continued:
"Look yuh, Cap"n Ted, maybe I won"t haf to have des a cook"s job in de army. Maybe I"d "joy myself mo" still shootin" at dem Germans out o" one o" dem holes in de ground. If dey want to try me, I"s willin"--I don"
care how soon de Gov"ment put a rifle in my hands an" sick me on dem Germans!"
Then the grinning negro gave vent to his feelings in a prodigious and joyful yell--a sort of war whoop in advance.
"July, this is simply _great_!" cried Ted, full of enthusiasm as he beheld a soldier born for Uncle Sam in the most unexpected quarter. "And I"m not so very much surprised either; for I have heard old army men say that a great many good soldiers are afraid at first."
Then they heard Buck"s shout that everything was "all right," and the two boys and the negro raced eagerly across the intervening s.p.a.ce.
"July," ordered Buck, "bring a bucket of water and any old cloth you can find. And be quick."
Carter was seated with his back against a tree, his face very pale and his bared arm showing a deep flesh wound out of which came an alarming flow of blood. Jenkins, seated near, had uncovered a bleeding but much less serious flesh wound in the calf of his left leg.
"Zack James was at the bottom of the whole fool business," Jenkins was saying. "He was drinkin" all night. You can see his empty bottle behind them permeters."
"Lucky for him that he beat it before I got my hands on him," said Buck.
While Peters and Jones were checking the red flow from Carter"s wound and very carefully binding it up, Ted noticed with alarm that blood trickled down Buck"s left wrist. He had received instruction in first aid as a part of his Boy Scout training and now insisted on dressing his friend"s wound, although Buck protested that the bullet had "just grazed" his arm and no attention was necessary. Ted cleared the drying blood from around the scratch and, tearing into strips his handkerchief which he had washed and dried the previous afternoon, neatly employed a part of it as a bandage.
"Thank you, little doctor," said Buck, smiling and pleased.
Then Ted turned to Jenkins and very carefully performed the same office for him, in this case there being some real need.
"You sure are a nice kid," said Jenkins gratefully. "I didn"t think you"d do it for me because I wasn"t on your side in the fight."
"Do you take me for a _German_?" demanded Ted, vastly indignant. "The Americans and the English and the French always attend to wounded prisoners of war. Only the Germans leave the enemy wounded to die, or kill them. They fire on the Red Cross and sink hospital ships, too. But we are different."
"Lord, no; I"d never take you for a German," apologized Jenkins, with a twitch of his lip and a twinkle in his eye.
Ted looked around, bright-eyed, upon the scene about him and the swamp-island surroundings, sighing, not with sadness, but with relief and satisfaction in the shaping and fortunate issue of events. Well pleased, he noted that the sun had risen in a clear sky and that birds were singing joyfully.
The boy vaguely sensed the wonderful and ever-compensating fact that nature had received no shock and its marvelous mechanism remained untouched; that the world was beautiful and its inarticulate creatures were happy, in spite of man"s strain and strife, his guns and his wars.
"Hurry up now, July, and get us some breakfast," the voice of Buck Hardy was heard calling.
XXIV
Two tramping parties approached each other on the borders of the great Okefinokee in the late afternoon.
The one just emerged from the swamp consisted of Ted Carroll, Hubert Ridgway, the three reformed slackers, the negro, and the two "prisoners of war," the first of the latter moving with a slight limp and the second carrying his arm in a sling.
The party descending toward the swamp consisted of Judge Ridgway, in hunting dress and carrying a gun, the widely known sheriff of that section, several deputies, a negro with a heavy provision-pack, and the venerable swamp-squatter whose long beard running down in a point had reminded Hubert of "a ram-goat" until the old fellow"s kindness had won the hearts of both boys.
As the homeward-bound party wound out of the swamp brush, and the party moving down the slope skirted a blackjack thicket and came into full view, both halted momentarily, uttering e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.ns of astonishment.
Then Ted and Hubert, whose keen young eyes saw everything and whose quick minds leaped upon the explanation, raced forward, shouting, and rushed into their uncle"s arms.
Judge Ridgway held them hard and kissed them; then, with an arm round Ted on his right and an arm round Hubert on his left, he sat on a log and listened as the boys" tongues ran a veritable race.
The sheriff, his deputies; and the old swamp-squatter stood respectfully apart. The three reformed slackers and the "prisoners of war" halted where the shouting and racing boys had left them, comprehending what had occurred and awaiting further developments, even the three who counted on the friendship of the boys not altogether easy in their minds. But July, grinning, delighted, curious, edged nearer until he heard Hubert crowd upon Ted"s last words, saying:
"And Ted made speeches to them nearly every night. I told him and told him it wouldn"t do any good, but it did a lot of good. It converted them."
"And you were just starting to look for us?" asked Ted.
"Yes--the moment we were ready, without waiting for an early morning start. I"ll tell you later what kept me away from home so long, and why my servants thought you were staying in town, and how Cousin Jim thought you were just having a good time hunting around the plantation. I had just got home when your good old swamp-squatter friend turned up and told us where to find you."