"May be we'll make five mile a day, an' may be we wont," he said. "We'll git to Pensacola in six or eight weeks, I s'pose, if we don't starve by the way, an' if this water runs that way."
"Very well," said Sam, "the longer we are on the route the better it will please you, Jake."
"Why?"
"Because you don't want to get there at all. But we'll be there sooner than you think?"
"How long do you reckon it will take us, Sam?" asked Billy.
"I don't know, because I don't know how long we'll be getting out of this creek."
"Well, I mean after we get into the river."
"About a day and a half," replied Sam, "possibly less."
"You don't mean it?"
"Don't I? What do I mean, then?"
"How far is it?"
"Less than a hundred miles."
"Well, we can't go a hundred miles in a day and a half."
"Can't we? I
