her. Paul in particular, Paul,
the impressionable and imaginative, looked around at the familiar figures
in the clearing moonlight, and drew strength and comfort from their near
presence.

The dark fleet moved slowly on, cutting the deep still waters of the bayou
with almost noiseless keel. The men had ceased whispering. Now and then an
oar splashed or the water gave back the echo of a paddle's dip, but little
else was heard. All looked straight ahead.

Suddenly they saw in the middle of the bayou, about a hundred yards before
them, a small, black shape, so low that it seemed to blend with the water.
It was an Indian canoe, the first outpost of the savage force, and its
occupant, promptly firing a rifle, raised a long, warning shout. In an
instant the woods on either side began to crackle with rifle-fire.
Skirmishers had met skirmishers, and the battle of the bayou had begun.

"Press on! Press on! We must cut through somehow!" cried Adam Colfax, and
the American fleet moved steadily and unfalteringly on toward its goal.
They came now to the narrowest part of the bayou, and stretched across it
they saw a dark line of canoes, all crowded with Indians and the
desperadoes of Alvarez. Behind them heaved up the dark bulk of the
captured schooner.

The battle blazed in an instant into volume and fury. Two lines of fire
facing each other were formed across the bayou, one bent upon pushing
forward, the other bent upon holding it back. These lines, moreover,
stretched far into the woods on either bank, where sharpshooters lay, and
both sides shouted at intervals as the blood in their veins grew hot.

The dark hulk of the schooner suddenly burst into spots of flame, and the
woods and waters echoed with heavy reports. The captured nine pounders
were now helping to block the passage, but the brass twelve pounders on
the supply fleet replied. Steadily the fire of both sides grew in volume
and the lines came closer and closer together.

The moonlight faded again and little clouds of smoke began to rise. These
clouds gradually grew bigger, then united into one heavy opaque mass that
hung over the combatants. Strips of vapor were detached from it and
floated off into the forest. A sharp, pungent odor, the smell of burnt
gunpowder, filled the nostrils of the men and added to the fire that
burned in their veins.

This, the largest battle yet fought in the southern woods, had a somber
and unreal aspect to Paul. All around them now w