"Rick!" Harkness' voice rumbled out, tight and cold with rage. "Shoot it!"
The laughter stopped suddenly, almost as if it had been switched off. It had been so long since anyone had made fun of the trader that the man had lost his head.
"I can't do that!" Rick's lean brown face was horrified. Then he became angry. "I wouldn't shoot a kid's pet!"
"Well, I will!" Moving with more speed than it seemed a large man could muster, the trader's hand snaked toward his holster.
Baba saw the joke had gone too far. He leaped into the air, came down with a bounce and shot up the tree beside Johnny before the trader could level the gun at him.
Johnny's mouth went dry. Already the trader was searching the tree for Baba, his pistol up, the safety switch off. The men stood in shocked silence.
"He's right beside me, Mr. Harkness!" Johnny shouted, and crawled into full view. "C'mon, Baba, get on my shoulder. He can't shoot me." As Johnny came into full view, the trader's face grew angrier yet. "Baba didn't drop that meat fruit, Mr. Harkness," Johnny said firmly. "I did."
"Kid's got guts," one of the hunters muttered.
As Johnny slid down to the ground, he saw his mother pushing her way through the group of men. Her lips were tight together, her face white.
"You're going to get it," Baba clicked. "Here come your pa and Captain Thompson, too."