by Jim DeFelice
As the boat reached the shore, Jake shook van Clynne to wake him. The Dutchman continued to slumber. Finally, loath to leave him behind, but unable to wait any longer, Jake ordered the squire refreshed with a buck of river water.
“ What happened,” demanded van Clynne. “How did we get on the damned ocean again?”
“ I grew tired of your snores,” said Jake. “Come on, if you’re coming. We have many miles to cover tonight. I want to cross to American lines before dawn.”
“ I’ll have you know, sir, that I was not snoring,” said van Clynne indignantly as he disembarked from the boat. “A Dutchman is constitutionally unable to snore. It is an impossibility.”
“ Just as you’re unable to complain.”
“ Just so, just so.”
Van Clynne’s snores were to become a source of some annoyance in the days ahead, leading Jake to try several stratagems before succeeding in putting an end to them. The remedy he used involved a certain herb much valued by the Indians and found along the way — but perhaps the reader will find it more fully described in the next book.
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