Mr. Brainerd was silent for a moment.
"Then I shall have to send Habakkuk in one direction and Gravity in another, to dislodge the Indian before he can shoot."
"My gracious!" muttered McEwen, "that would be sure death to all concerned."
"The chances would be against you—that's a fact, but that would be preferable to huddling in this place and allowing the redskins to pick us off, one after another, without being able to raise a finger in defense."
"The state of affairs isn't calculated to raise hilarious laughter on our part," was the doleful remark of Habakkuk McEwen.
"Therefore, you see how important it is that we should prevent the Indians getting such advantage over us."
There could be no questioning this fact, and the other two renewed their watch, like men who knew the need of vigilance.
"I say," remarked the African, as though a new idea had flashed upon him, "why don't the warmints wait till it is dark before dey take a pop at us?"
"Very likely they will—but it won't do to discount any such probability."
"Dat's de opinion ob de undersigned," said Gimp, with a sigh, only dimly suspecting the meaning of the words.