“Yer hand ag’in, boyee. Ye beat yer daddy. Why I only knocked over three, and the Frenchy nearly killed one wid his umbrella afore they got us,” said Ralph.
“Oh, mine poor umbrella. It is von shame for the noble red-men to take it from me. I have been to Africa, and half-vay around de vorld, an’ de umbrella vas vith me alvays. I s’all certainly complain ven I get home,” said Monsieur Tierney.
“But ye’ll never git home, Parley Voo. The reds intend ter roast ye an’ have some fun out o’ ye,” said Ralph.
“Mon Dieu, but de red-men vill not do dat. Dey vill no hurt a poor Frenchman. Begar, I vill send von complaint to de Emperor, an’ den I vill get avay. Now vat you think, monsieur?”
“I think yer a durned fool, thet’s what I think. We are lookin’ death in the face now, an’ things look bad fur us.
“What’s all that row about, boyee? Thar’s somethin’ up,” said the hunter, as he walked over to the window.
Upon looking out he could at first see nothing, but soon the circus-rider, mounted on his snow-white horse, and followed by the Indians, came in sight.
Ralph knew not what to make of it, and he called his comrades to his side. The three looked out of the small barred aperture, and Chauncy saw at a glance what the man was.
The Frenchman understood him when he mentioned what the rider was, but Ralph had to have it explained to him.
But what was the man doing here?