In case of danger, the man to shift for himself until it should be safe
to take him on board again. I volunteered to be the man.

We knew that the voices and oars must come up slowly against the stream;
and our seamen knew, by the set of the stream, under which bank they
would come. I was put ashore accordingly. The raft got off well, and I
broke into the wood.

Steaming hot it was, and a tearing place to get through. So much the
better for me, since it was something to contend against and do. I cut
off the bend of the river, at a great saving of space, came to the
water's edge again, and hid myself, and waited. I could now hear the dip
of the oars very distinctly; the voices had ceased.

The sound came on in a regular tune, and as I lay hidden, I fancied the
tune so played to be, "Chris'en--George--King! Chris'en--George--King!
Chris'en--George--King!" over and over again, always the same, with the
pauses always at the same places. I had likewise time to make up my mind
that if these were the Pirates, I could and would (barring my being shot)
swim off to my raft, in spite of my wound, the moment I had given the
alarm, and hold my old post by Miss Maryon.

"Chris'en--George--King! Chris'en--George--King! Chris'en--George--King!"
coming up, now, very near.

I took a look at the branches about me, to see where a shower of bullets
would be most likely to do me least hurt; and I took a look back at the
track I had made in forcing my way in; and now I was wholly prepared and
fully ready for them.