One chipped a splinter from the edge of the canoe and whistled by Paul's ear, singing, as it passed, "Look out! Look out!" But Paul's only reply was to use his paddle faster, and yet faster.
The boy did not notice that Jim Hart had turned the course of the canoe, and that they were running northward, about midway between the island and the mainland; but the rifle fire ceased presently, and Jim Hart said to him: "You can take it easier now, Paul.

We're out uv range, though not uv sight." Paul straightened up, laid his paddle in the boat, and gasped for breath.
"Look over thar, Paul, ef you want to see a pleasant scene," said Jim Hart calmly.
Paul's gaze followed the long man's pointing finger, and he saw at least twenty warriors gathered on the bank, and regarding them now in dead silence.
"Mad!" said Jim Hart.

"Mad clean through!" "They've chased us on land, and now they are chasing us on water.

I wonder where they will chase us next," said Paul.
"Not through the air, 'cause they can't fly, nor kin we," said Jim Hart sagely.
Paul looked back again at the ferocious band gathered on the shore, and, while he could not see their faces at the distance, he could imagine the evil passions pictured there.

As he gazed the band broke up, and many of them came running along the shore.