“Then we’ve got to be careful,” suggested Ned, who was eyeing the redmen with interest.
“We sure have. I’ve told ’em we’re after bugs, and such like, but I don’t know whether they believe it or not. There’s one thing sure, they’ll never bother him,” and he pointed to Professor Snodgrass, who, totally oblivious to his surroundings, or any danger, was scurrying about, catching bugs and specimens in his little nets.
“Why not?” Bob wanted to know.
“Because they think he’s a little crazy—touched in the head, you know. I heard some of ’em say so. The Indians—at least most of ’em—regard a crazy person as particularly under the protection of the Great Spirit, and they’ll never harm one.”
“Then maybe we can get the professor to protect us if worst comes to worst,” suggested Ned.
“Oh, I don’t imagine anything will happen right away,” went on Harvey Brill. “They say they are going off to hunt and fish, and all they ask is to be let alone. That may be so, or it may not. Time will tell. I’ve told ’em we are flying about with the professor, and that we may disappear any moment.”
“We can’t until that rudder’s fixed—worse luck,” exclaimed Jerry. “We’ll get right at it.”
“Yes, I wouldn’t delay any longer than I had to,” spoke Jim Nestor. “Some of those fellows are rather savage looking. I wouldn’t want to anger one if I didn’t have a gun.”