“But we are four to one,” exclaimed Harry. “Surely we don’t need to fear much from a single enemy.”
“Humph!” ejaculated the guide, as he examined the lock of his gun. “You’ve had little to do with Injins, that’s plain, You may be sure he’s not alone, an’ the reptile has a bow with arrows enough to send us all on a pretty long journey. But we’ve the trees to dodge behind. If I only had one dry charge!” and the disconcerted guide gave a look, half of perplexity, half of contempt, at the dripping gun.
“Never mind,” cried Charley; “we have our paddles. But I forgot, Harry, in all this confusion, that you are wounded, my poor fellow. We must have it examined before doing anything further.”
“Oh, it’s nothing at all—a mere scratch, I think; at least I feel very little pain.”
As he spoke the twang of a bow was heard, and an arrow flew past Jacques’s ear.
“Ah, so soon!” exclaimed that worthy, with a look of surprise, as if he had unexpectedly met with an old friend. Stepping behind a tree, he motioned to his friends to do likewise; an example which they followed somewhat hastily on beholding the Indian who had wounded Harry step from the cover of the underwood and deliberately let fly another arrow, which passed through the hair of the Canadian they had brought with them.
From the several trees behind which they had leaped for shelter they now perceived that the Indian with the bow was Misconna, and that he was accompanied by eight others, who appeared, however, to be totally unarmed; having, probably, been obliged to leave their weapons behind them, owing to the abruptness of their flight. Seeing that the white men were unable to use their guns, the Indians assembled in a group, and from the hasty and violent gesticulations of some of the party, especially of Misconna, it was evident that a speedy attack was intended.
Observing this, Jacques coolly left the shelter of his tree, and going up to Charley, exclaimed, “Now, Mister Charles, I’m goin’ to run away, so you’d better come along with me.”
“That I certainly will not. Why, what do you mean?” inquired the other, in astonishment.
“I mean that these stupid red-skins can’t make up their minds what to do, an’ as I’ve no notion o’ stoppin’ here all day, I want to make them do what will suit us best. You see, if they scatter through the wood and attack us on all sides, they may give us a deal o’ trouble, and git away after all; whereas, if we run away, they’ll bolt after us in a body, and then we can take them in hand all at once, which’ll be more comfortable-like, an’ easier to manage.”