“It’s very unlucky,” he said. “So unexpected and uncalled for. I hardly expected that we should have to encounter this.”
“They’re a treacherous lot,” said Briscoe quietly. “It’s enough to make a man fire upon them at sight. Wound hurt much?”
“It feels as if a red-hot iron had been thrust through it,” said Sir Humphrey.
“Glad of it,” said the American, who was taking the affair in a very calm manner.
“What!” exclaimed Brace, as he turned round quickly with flashing eyes.
“Glad of it, sir. Good sign. Fine, healthy pain. Now, if it had felt numb and dull I shouldn’t have liked it, for it would have sounded as if something nasty was on the arrow. There, you keep a good heart, and we’ll soon have you back on board. Then you can have a few hours’ sleep, and you’ll be all right by night.”
“I hope so,” said Sir Humphrey calmly, and he closed his eyes once more, while Brace turned his upon his companion with a look full of wild anxiety, but only to receive a quiet nod and a reassuring smile in return.
“I don’t think there are any more near,” said Briscoe, “and I don’t want to have the unpleasant feeling upon my conscience that I’ve killed a fellow-creature; but if any more of them send arrows in this direction, Dan and I will shoot at sight, and we’re uncommonly good shots.”
He had hardly uttered the last words when there was a sharp whirr as if a beetle had darted by the speaker’s ear, and they could see an arrow stuck quivering in a tree the boat was just passing, while Dan immediately sent a charge of buckshot crashing among the leaves.
“That was a bad aim,” said the American, facing sharply round, “and I can’t see who sent it. Can you make out a bit of dark skin anywhere among the bushes, Dan?”