"I'd like to know, sir, what we're to do," he began.
"Godefroy, 'twould be waste time to knock sense in your pate! There is only one thing to do always—only one, the right thing! Do it, fool! An I hear more clack from you till it's done, I'll have your tongue out with the nippers!"
Godefroy cowered sulkily back, and M. de Radisson laughed.
"That will quell him," said he. "When Godefroy's tongue is out he can't grumble, and grumbling is his bread of life!"
Stripping off his bright doublet, M. Radisson hung it from a tree to attract the fort's notice. Then he posted us in ambuscade with orders to capture whatever came.
But nothing came.
And when the fort guns boomed out the noon hour M. Radisson sprang up all impatience.
"I'll wait no man's time," he vowed. "Losing time is losing the game! Launch out!"
Chittering something about our throats being cut, Godefroy shrank back. With a quick stride M. Radisson was towering above him. Catching Godefroy by the scruff of the neck, he threw him face down into the canoe, muttering out it would be small loss if all the cowards in the world had their throats cut.
"The pirates come to trade," he explained. "They will not fire at Indians. Bind your hair back like that Indian there!"