" And 'way out acrost the river we could hear
the little thing a-sobbin', and we all was still 's death; and we
heerd a voice we knowd was Bills's say, "Dam ye! Keep still, or I'll
drownd ye!" And the wind kind o' moaned agin and we could hear the
trees a-screechin' together in the dark, and the leaves a-rustlin';
and when it kind o' lulled agin, we heerd Bills make a kind o' splash
with the oars; and jist then Steve whispered far to lay low and be
ready--he was a-goin' to riconnitre; and he tuck his coat and shoes
off, and slid over the bank and down into the worter as slick as a'
eel. Then ever'thing was still agin, 'cept the moanin' o' the child,
which kep' a-gittin' louder and louder; and then a voice whispered to
us, "He's a-comin' back; the crowd below has sent scouts up, and
they're on t' other side. Now watch clos't, and he's our meat." We
could hear Bills, by the moanin' o' the baby, a-comin' nearder and
nearder, tel suddently he made a sort o' miss-lick with the oar, I
reckon, and must a splashed the baby, far she set up a loud cryin; and
jist then old Ezry, who was a-leanin' over the bank, kind o' lost his
grip some way o' nuther, and fell kersplash in the worter like a' old
chunk.
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