made fast to the kedge.

The little steamer rolled and squeaked and coughed, and the paddle-wheel
at her stern kicked up a compost of sand and mud and yellow water that
almost choked them with its crushed marigold scent. The helm swung over
alternately from hard-a-starboard to hard-a-port; the stern-wheel ground
savagely into the sand, first one way and then the other; and the
gutter, which she had delved for herself in the bank, grew gradually
wider and more deep. Then slowly she began to make real progress astern.

"Now, heave on that kedge," Kettle yelled, and the winch bucked and
clattered under a greater head of steam, and the warp sung to the
strain; and presently the little vessel slid off the bank, picked up her
anchor, and was free to go where she pleased.

"Hurrah," cried Balliot, "we are saved. You are a brave man, Captain."

"I didn't ask you to speak," retorted Kettle. "We aren't out of the wood
by a long chalk yet."

"But we are out of their fire now. We shall be disturbed no further."

"No, my lad, but we've got a precious heap of disturbing to do on our
own account before we've squared up for this tea party. I'm going to
drop down stream to somewhere quiet where we can fill up with wood, and
then I'm coming back again to give your late Tommies bad fits."

"But I don't authorize this. I didn't foresee--"

"Very likely not. But a fat lot I care for that. Fact remains that I'm