There were many ponds and pools left in the swamp, and these had to be avoided, so that night had already come before he found himself fairly out of the swamp and on the bank of the river, about two miles below the root fortress.
He now began to feel all sorts of apprehensions.

He had been away eleven days, and he could not help imagining a variety of terrible things which might have happened to his little band during his absence.
Presently he saw a great light up the river, and at once the thought flashed into his mind that the Indians had discovered and butchered the boys and Judie, and were now burning the drift pile.
"I'll hurry on," he said to himself, "and if the Indians are really there, it's time for me to take part in this war.

I can keep in the timber and pick off half a dozen of them there in the fire light.

Then if they scalp me, I don't care.

I'll at least make them suffer for what they've done." A fierce storm was just breaking,--a storm of the violent and heroic type seen only in tropical and sub-tropical countries, but Sam thought nothing of that.