Do you hear?
I say again--none of it my making.

If you attempt to come ashore there will be more trouble, and this time it will be of my making.

Keep back!"-- as an impulsive one gave a tug at his oar.

"If you force me to fire, your blood be on your own heads.

I give you fair warning." Growls from the boat carried up to him an impression of mixed doubt and discomfort--ultimate disbelief in his possession of arms, an energetic oath or two, and another creak of the oar.
"Very well! Here's to show you I am armed." The report of his gun made Nance jump, at the other side of the island, and set all the birds on L'Etat--except the puffins, deep in their holes--circling and screaming.
The small shot tore up the water within a couple of yards of the boat, which backed off hastily--much to his satisfaction, for he had feared they might rush him before he had time to reload.
He had dropped flat after firing and recharged his gun as he lay.