“Cock your guns,” cried Adam, “but don’t fire till I give the word. I hear ’em comin’.”
The moment that Mary Brown’s scream was heard, Chap sprang toward the river, followed by the four Indians.
“Hold back!” cried The Talker. “You take care! You be shot!”
But Chap paid no attention to this warning. His only idea was to rush upon the two marauders and whang them over the head with his club.
It was now almost dark in the woods, but on the water and the river-beach objects could be easily seen.
The Talker thrust his gun into the hands of the unarmed Indian, and making a dash at Chap, he seized him around the waist just as he was about to rush out into the open.
“That no way to fight,” he cried. “You be shot.”
Encircling the boy with his strong arms, he held him back. Then, speaking to one of the other Indians, he told him to peep out and see how matters stood.
The Indian quickly reported that the men were in the boat, and had their guns levelled at the shore.
“Bad rascals,” said The Talker. “Goin’ to try kill somebody and keep boat. You hold him,” continued The Talker, giving Chap into the custody of one of the other Indians, “and we go fix ’em.”