They know where we are and we must get out into the stream, where there's a chance for our escape." Then ensued a flight and running combat in a tricky fog that lifted and closed down over and over again.

Henry put down his oars presently and took up his rifle, but Jim Hart and Tom Ross continued to pull, and Paul kept a steady hand on the tiller.
Paul's task was the most trying of all.

Highly sensitive and imaginative, this battle rolling along in alternate dusky light and white obscurity, was to him uncanny and unreal.

He saw pink dots of rifle fire in the fog, he caught glimpses now and then of brown, savage faces or the prow of a canoe, and then the heavy fog would come down like a blanket again, shutting out everything.
Paul's hand trembled.

Every nerve in him was jumping, but he resolutely steered the boat while the others rowed and fought.