Giant George’s small hands went up to receive the luscious missile which bounded through the air.
“Ouch!” he said, as he caught and dropped it.
“What is it?” Harry asked.
“Burs!” Giant George answered.
“Sit in the middle, Giant George, and don’t bear down too hard,” came from Atwell, in the dory.
“Hey, Giant George, sit in the middle!” shouted Brownell, excitedly. “What are you trying to do, tip the canoe?” Others took up the cry, yelling at him to sit in the middle, till they had stirred up quite a panic. It was difficult to sit anywhere except in the middle, for Giant George was wedged into the bow where there wasn’t anything but middle, but he sat straight upright and was very much frightened. Then he began to shake the hand which stung him from catching the burs.
“Don’t do that!” came from a neighboring canoe. “My, but you’re reckless! Shake the other one too if you must shake!” Poor Giant George was very much frightened, until presently an assuring word came from Frankie.
“Splash some water on them,” he called. But Giant George would not budge.
“Don’t you mind them,” said Harry. “Suppose I lose you overboard and we’ll make one of those Laughing Hyenas go in after you.”
“I can’t swim,” said Giant George, promptly.