Again The Talker shouted that if they didn’t get out of that boat, and give it up, he and his men would come down and take it.
“All right!” said Adam to the boys. “As long as they stick behind them trees, we couldn’t hit ’em, even if ’twas daylight, but if they rush down on us we can fire at ’em as quick as we please, and the law’ll stand by us, for we’ve got a right to fight for our property when there’s nobody to do it for us. So let ’em come, if they want to.”
But the Indians behind the trees did not seem inclined to do anything in a hurry.
They might have fired at the people on the boat, and, perhaps, have hit them, for they were not perfectly protected, nor were their defences bullet-proof; but although these Indians, in this wild country, were, in a measure, outside the pale of the law, they knew that to deliberately shoot human beings, who had so far offered them no violence, would be very much like a murder.
They had not expected to meet a party so well armed, and ready to protect themselves, for they had expected to rush in between the marauders and their stolen boat, and, by their superiority and numbers, to effect a speedy victory.
They spoke to each other from tree to tree, and it is possible that they contemplated waiting until night had really set in, when, under cover of the darkness, they could slip down and capture the boat without so much danger of being shot.
But Chap was out of all patience with this ridiculous delay.
“What’s the good of standing there and hollerin’,” he said, “instead of going down and doing something? The first thing you know those fellows will push the boat off, and get away with her.”
“Don’t be ’fraid,” said the Indian who still held him. “We keep eye on ’em. No get ’way.”
But Chap’s active mind and body could not be content with talk like this. With a sudden and powerful wrench he broke away from the Indian who was holding him, and, brandishing his club, he rushed out upon the beach.