"That was from a rifle. The other was from a pistol," said Tayoga. "It is the slaver, of course, who has the rifle, and they mean to make it very warm for us. Perhaps an unexpected chance gives them hope to do here what they expected to achieve later on."
"Meaning a final disposition of me?"
"That was in my mind, Dagaeoga. I think it is you at whom they will shoot and you would better creep away. Lie almost flat and edge along until you come to the trees, which are about twenty yards behind us. There, you will be safe."
"And leave you alone, Tayoga! What have I ever done to make you think I'd do such a thing?"
"It is not Tayoga whom they want. It is Dagaeoga. I cannot go without taking a shot at them, else my pistol would burn me inside my tunic. Be wise as I am, Dagaeoga. Always carry a pistol when you are in the white man's towns. Life is reasonably safe only in the red man's forest."
"It looks as if you were right, Tayoga, but remember that I stay here with you as long as you stay."
"Then keep close to the earth. Roll back a bit and you will be sheltered better by that little rise."
Robert obeyed, and it was well that he did so, as the heavy rifle cracked a second time, and a plowing bullet caused fine particles of earth to fly over him. Tayoga leveled his pistol at the flash and smoke, but did not pull the trigger.
"Why didn't you fire, Tayoga?" asked Robert.
"I could not see well enough. They and their boat are still hidden by the bushes in which they remain, because from there they can command the bank where we lie."