trees; "pale-face fire!"

"By the Lord, the fellow is right!" muttered Cap; "there they are,
sure enough, and eating their grub as quietly as if they were in
the cabin of a three-decker."

"Arrowhead is but half right!" whispered Mabel, "for there are two
Indians and only one white man."

"Pale-faces," said the Tuscarora, holding up two fingers; "red
man," holding up one.

"Well," rejoined Cap, "it is hard to say which is right and which
is wrong. One is entirely white, and a fine comely lad he is, with
an air of respectability about him; one is a red-skin as plain as
paint and nature can make him; but the third chap is half-rigged,
being neither brig nor schooner."

"Pale-faces," repeated Arrowhead, again raising two fingers, "red
man," showing but one.

"He must be right, uncle; for his eye seems never to fail. But
it is now urgent to know whether we meet as friends or foes. They
may be French."

"One hail will soon satisfy us on that head," returned Cap. "Stand
you behind the tree, Magnet, lest the knaves take it into their
heads to fire a broadside without a parley, and I will soon learn
what colors they sail under."