At which Bub waxed valiant, and said,–
“I wish I had my big stick to stick into their backs, if they do come.”
Charlie could not forbear a laugh at this, notwithstanding the sanguinary scenes that had crowded the last few days with horrors, but answered,– 253
“I know what you can do, Bub, to drive them away, if they should come;” and, drawing a ball of twine from his pocket, he tied it to the trigger of one of the mounted rifles, then feeling again in his pocket for his knife to cut off the string, he said,–
“Where’s my jackknife? I must have lost it in going to the spring for water; lots of things tumbled out as I crawled through the grass. Never mind; I can use a case-knife;” and, taking one from the table, he divided the string so as to leave the end of it hanging within easy reach of Bub. He did the same to all the guns.
“Now,” he explained to Bub, “when I tell you to pull one of these strings, you must do it as quick as you can. I will whisper, Pull! and you must take right hold of the twine, and draw it so;” and, contrary to Charlie’s intention, bang went the rifle.
“Why, I didn’t mean to do that; but it will show you how. Pulling the string made the gun go off, you see.”
Bub was all attention, and asked, eagerly,
“Shall I do it now?”
“O, no,” replied Charlie. “I mean, when I tell you to. When the Indians come, and I say, Pull! Suppose, for instance, I should get up in this way,”–and he ascended to the lookout,–“and I should look out in this way,”–and he 254 put his eye to the port-hole,–“and I should see a big Indian coming to kill Bub.”