"Come
with me to the _Cocopah_. We'll steam across and get the whole party."
On the western shore of the Colorado, Private Tom Clary and the boy
sergeants sat by the fire broiling quail, which they seasoned from the
supplies of Texas Dick and Juan Brincos, and accompanied by slices of
toasted bread from the same source. In the midst of their enjoyment of
"quail on toast" a loud "who-o-of! who-o-of! who-o-of!" came across
the river.
"Hullo!" said Henry; "the old _Cocopah_ is starting for the Gulf
mighty early. I should think the pilot would find it difficult to keep
off the shores when it is so dark."
The boys could see by the boat's changing lights that her bow, which
had been headed up-stream, when she lay at the bank, was swinging
slowly out into the stream, and they expected shortly to see her
starboard lights as she headed downward. But she seemed to pause, with
her furnace fires and pilot lanterns pointing towards them.
"Who-o-of! who-o-of! who-o-of!--patter, patter, patter." The noise of
the steamer grew louder and louder, until the boys rose from their
seats and stared in surprise at the rapidly growing lights.
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