Before Devin could stop firing, the thing leaped clear, yelling.
Then, from the cabin, a broad-shouldered young man emerged. He was clad somewhat after the fashion of the early American pioneers: fur cap, shapeless brown homespun shirt, rough skinny-legged trousers, and thick-soled moccasins. In his hands he lifted a cumbersome weapon, having six wooden barrels or tubes, from each of which protruded a sharp-pointed metal dart.
"There been trouble?" he cried out in badly mangled but understandable English.
For an instant Orth was stunned by the wonder of it. After three million years—a man speaking English!
"Shot at me from over there," he told the frontiersman warily.
The man catfooted over to the scarred tree, his clumsy weapon poised ready. He grunted something in badly garbled English. Then he motioned to the Earthman to join him.
"Redskin," he told Orth.