“And here comes another canoeful behind them.”
From the mouth of a narrow cove the canoes were paddling cut into the open sea.
“Look!” cried Stellara. “There are many more coming.”
One after another twenty canoes moved in a long column out upon the quiet waters and as they drew steadily toward the ship the survivors saw that each was filled with almost naked warriors. Short, heavy spears, bone-tipped, bristled menacingly; stone knives protruded from every G-string and stone hatchets swung at every hip.
As the flotilla approached, Tanar went to a cabin and returned with two of the heavy pistols left behind by a fleeing Korsar when the ship had been abandoned.
“Do you expect to repulse four hundred warriors with those?” asked the girl.
Tanar shrugged. “If they have never heard the report of a firearm a few shots may suffice to frighten them away, for a time at least,” he explained, “and if we do not go on the shore the current will carry us away from them in time.”
“But suppose they do not frighten so easily?” she demanded.
“Then I can do no more than my best with the crude weapons and the inferior powder of the Korsars,” he said with the conscious superiority of one who had, with his people, so recently emerged from the stone age that he often instinctively grasped a pistol by the muzzle and used it as a war club in sudden emergencies when at close quarters.
“Perhaps they will not be unfriendly,” suggested Stellara.