Crusoe, however, had been so well used to dodging the
blunt-headed arrows that were wont to be shot at him by the boys of
the Mustang Valley, that he was quite prepared, and eluded the shaft
by an active bound. Moreover, he uttered one of his own peculiar
roars, flew at the Indian's throat, and dragged him down. At the same
moment the other Indians came up, and one of them turned aside to the
rescue. This man happened to have an old gun, of the cheap sort at
that time exchanged for peltries by the fur-traders. With the butt of
this he struck Crusoe a blow on the head that sent him sprawling on
the grass.
The rest of the savages, as we have seen, continued in pursuit of Dick
until he leaped into the river; then they returned, took the saddle
and bridle off his dead horse, and rejoined their comrades. Here they
held a court-martial on Crusoe, who was now bound foot and muzzle
with cords. Some were for killing him; others, who admired his noble
appearance, immense size, and courage, thought it would be well to
carry him to their village and keep him.
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