He did as he proposed, and the rest joined him in the prayer.
Troloo could not make out exactly what his white friends were about. He expected to see them begin to fire away and kill his black relations. Still he seemed to think that they deserved to be punished. At last the blacks, seeing no one, came on all together.
“Now let us shout at the top of our voices, and fire over their heads,” whispered Joseph; “may be they’ll take fright and run off.”
The savages drew still nearer, and then Joseph, and Tom, and Sarah, and her daughter, all shouted out, and shrieked at the top of their voices, and the two men at the same moment fired their rifles. The savages, hearing the whistling of the bullets just above their heads, looked about astonished, and then ran off as fast as they could run. They did not go far, however, but, stopping, began to talk to each other, and seeing no one following, took courage.
“I am afraid that that trick won’t answer again,” observed Tom; “the next time we must rush out upon them, and take one or two of them prisoners.”
“We might as well try to catch eels with our fingers,” answered Joseph. “If they come on again we must, I fear, fight it out. We ought not to leave the shelter of our hut as long as it will hold us.”
“Oh, no, no; let us stay where we are,” said Sarah.
The blacks, however, did not seem inclined to let them do that. Once more they plucked up courage and came on, whirling their spears.
The rifles were again loaded; still Joseph did not wish to fire at the savages. The blacks got quite close, and then sent a shower of spears, which came quivering against the posts which were round the hut, several piercing its thin walls. Fortunately none came through the openings.
“We must give it them in earnest next time,” said Tom.