“All right, let’s get everyone into the boats, we’re going to Haven,” Checkmate said, “we should hurry, there isn’t much time before the Cricks get here.”

The school teacher didn’t have to be told twice. Like a mother hen she cluck-clucked her charges to their feet and they began to file out the door, tight lipped, grim and silent, down to the docks and the boats. Two Trees, who had been looking across the river to the burning village, suddenly said, “Less time than we think. Look!” Swimming in the river, only a few yards upstream, about 10 Cricks bristling with weapons were almost upon them.

“Get going as soon as you get into the boats,” Checkmate said to Mrs. Posey. He went over to a window and issued a piercing whistle. The remainder of the Haven war party hustled up the steps past the children headed to the boats and into the strong house.

The Cricks were up and out of the water, in spite of the almost vertical rock where they landed, and began to surround the house. They were all intricately tattooed and naked except for loincloths. Claw, Checkmate, and Iron Hand defended the stair to the boats from two of the quicker Cricks. Claw slashed a completely tattooed Crick’s shoulder and kicked him into the river, he bobbed once or twice, the current carrying him, then sank.

Checkmate parried a spear-thrust from the other and, while wrestling over the lance, Iron Hand crushed the man’s skull with his hammer. The boats with the Riverside survivors were shoving off so the three men dashed quickly into the strong house slamming the heavy door in the faces of three more Cricks.

“It’s going to take them about three seconds to go after the boats,” Claw said. And surely, after they had determined they couldn’t get at the men inside the house, the Cricks, seven in all, started down the steps toward the canoes. Another group of Cricks could be seen swimming 50 yards or so upstream and would be there in minutes.

Checkmate laughed. Everyone in the house turned to look at their leader. “We can swim if we have to,” he said, looking over his little band, “but I think we’ll enjoy the trip much better if we ride!

“Those dumb asses have made a strategic mistake,” the leader said  grinning, “we have the high ground and there’s only one way back up. Git ’em boys!”

The men streamed out of the house and took positions at the top of the stairway. One Crick had jumped into a canoe and was about to cut the mooring line. Jimmy shot an arrow right through his neck and he fell into the river. The other savages saw the Havenites and, like a flock of wheeling birds, charged up the stairway. Most of them were cut down by the archers and the two that made it to the top were perfunctorily dispatched by Claw and Two Trees.

The next group of Cricks would soon be up on the rock; another group behind them could be seen approaching. “Time to go,” Checkmate said and the war party got into the remaining canoes and shoved off.