Ti-hi fitted an arrow to the string of his short, strong bow, and was about to draw it, but the doctor laid his hand upon him and checked him, to the savage warrior’s great disgust.
“No,” said the doctor, “not until we are obliged; and then I shall try what a charge of small shot will do.”
We were not long in finding out that it was absolutely necessary to defend ourselves with vigour, for the arrows began to fall thickly—thickly enough, indeed, to show us that there were more marksmen hidden among the trees than the size of the clump seemed to indicate from where we crouched.
I was watching the patch of trees very intently when I heard a sharply drawn inspiration of breath, and turning I saw the doctor pulling an arrow from the flannel tunic he wore.
“As doctors say, Joe,” he whispered with a smile, “three inches more to the right and that would have been fatal.”
I don’t know how I looked, but I felt pale, and winced a little, while the doctor took my hand.
The force of habit made me snatch it away, for I thought he was going to feel my pulse. I fancied for the moment that it must be to see whether I was nervous, and the blood flushed to my cheeks now, and made me look defiant.
“Why, Joe, my lad, what is it?” he said quietly. “Won’t you shake hands?”
“Oh! yes,” I cried, placing mine in his, and he gave it a long, firm grip.
“I ought,” he said, after a pause, “to have said more about the troubles, like this one, which I might have known would arise, when we arranged to start; but somehow I had a sort of hope that we might make a peaceful journey, and not be called upon to shed blood. Joe, my lad, we shall have to fight for our lives.”