"Sh! mind your eye!"
Something whizzed by the head of Wharton and splashed in the water beyond. It almost grazed his cheek, and seemed to be like a cannon ball. For all purposes it might have been considered such, for had it struck the youth, the result would have been fatal.
The crazy Indian had hurled a large stone with prodigious force and accuracy. Little need, it would seem, of such a thrower carrying a firearm.
As Wharton turned his affrighted gaze around he saw the fellow about to hurl another.
"Gracious! he will kill us," exclaimed the youth, bending his head forward to dodge the terrible missile.
"No, he won't, ayther."
As Larry spoke he dropped his paddle, caught up his rifle, and, pointing toward the red man, fired.