They know where we are, but we don't know where they are." "That's so," said Shif'less Sol, "an' it gives 'em an advantage." "Which, perhaps, we can take from 'em by moving our own boat." Henry was about to put his plan into action, but they heard a light splash in the water to the west, and another to the north.

Spots of piercing red light appeared in the fog, and many rifles cracked.

Fortunately, all had thrown themselves down, and the bullets spent themselves in the wood of the boat's side.

Henry and Sol and Tom fired back at the flashes, but more rifle shots came out of the fog, and those on the boat had no way of telling whether any of their bullets had hit.
"I think we'd better hold our fire," whispered Henry between rifle shots.
"It's wasting bullets to shoot at a fog." The others nodded and waited.

A long cry, quavering at first, and then rising to a fierce top note to die away later in a ferocious, wolfish whine came through the fog.