“Looks like an Injun.”
“An Injun it is, sure as I’m a foot high.”
Tom’s conjecture proved to be correct. As the boys approached the stony point, they could make out a lithe, coppery-colored figure, naked to the waist, squatting on a rock ledge that fell off steeply to the water.
“What’s that in his hand?” questioned Tom, peering intently up shore.
“Looks like a spear.”
“Must be spearing fish.”
“I reckon so. That’s the usual Injun way to catch them, I understand. Or else with nets.”
In another moment the two lads were within fifty yards of the ledge, where they could plainly see the savage fisherman.
“Well, I’ll be scalped,” exclaimed Tom, “if it isn’t Bright Star, the young Pottawattomee!”
“By golly, it is! Looks like he came out of the big duel with nary a scratch.”