"You are as ignorant
as any man alive; you are as obscure as any man alive; you are as poor as
any man alive; you are no better than the mud under your foot." That was
the way in which I went on against myself until the morning.
With the day, came the day's labour. What I should have done--without
the labour, I don't know. We were afloat again at the usual hour, and
were again making our way down the river. It was broader, and clearer of
obstructions than it had been, and it seemed to flow faster. This was
one of Drooce's quiet days; Mr. Pordage, besides being sulky, had almost
lost his voice; and we made good way, and with little noise.
There was always a seaman forward on the raft, keeping a bright look-out.
Suddenly, in the full heat of the day, when the children were slumbering,
and the very trees and reeds appeared to be slumbering, this man--it was
Short--holds up his hand, and cries with great caution: "Avast! Voices
ahead!"
We held on against the stream as soon as we could bring her up, and the
other raft followed suit. At first, Mr. Macey, Mr. Fisher, and myself,
could hear nothing; though both the seamen aboard of us agreed that they
could hear voices and oars.
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