He pointed them out to Campbell, and said:
"What kind of birds are they? Do you think they are swans?"
"I can't think what else they can be," said Campbell; "but they have
not got the shape of birds, and they don't swim smoothly like swans,
but go jerking along like big coots. Take a look through the glass,
Davy, and see if you can make them out."
Davy took a long and steady look, and said: "I am blowed if they
ain't blackfellows in their canoes. They are poleing them along
towards the channel, one, two, three--there's a dozen of 'em or
more. I can see their long spears sticking out, and they are after
some mischief. The tide is on the ebb, and they are going to drop
down with it, and spear those two men in the boat; and they are both
landlubbers, and haven't even got a gun with them. We must bear a
hand and help them. Get your guns and we'll launch the whaleboat."
John Campbell steered, and Shay and Davy pulled as hard as they could
towards the canoes, which were already drifting down with the
current. The two fishermen were busy with their lines, every now and
then pulling out a fish and baiting their hooks with a fresh piece of
shark. They never looked up the channel, nor guessed the danger that
was every moment coming nearer, for the blacks as yet had not made
the least noise. At last Campbell saw several of them seizing their
spears and making ready to throw them, so he fired one of his
barrels; and Davy stood up in the boat and gave a cooee that might
have been heard at Sunday Island, for when anything excited him on
the water he could be heard shouting and swearing at an incredible
distance.
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