But I had been too much with my friend Jimmy not to be well upon the alert.

We had often played together--he like a big boy--in mimic fight, when he had pretended to spear me, and taught me how to catch the spear on a shield, and to avoid blows made with waddies.

Jimmy's lessons were not thrown away.

I could avoid a thrown spear, though helpless, like the black, against bullets, which he said came "too much faster faster to top." And as the savage made the blow at me I followed out Jimmy's tactics, threw myself forward, striking the wretch right in the chest with my head, driving him backward, and leaping over him I ran for my life, making straight for the forest.
"It's all because of those wretches in the other schooner yesterday," I thought, as I ran swiftly on with a pack of the enemy shouting in my rear; and though I could run very fast, I found, to my horror, that my pursuers were as swift of foot, and that though I was close upon the forest it was all so open that they would be able to see me easily, and once caught I knew now what was to be my fate.
I began thinking of the hunted hare, as I ran on, casting glances behind me from time to time, and seeing that though some of my pursuers lagged, there were four who were pretty close upon my heels, one of whom hurled his spear at me, which came whizzing past my ear so closely that it lightly touched my shoulder, making me leap forward as if struck by the weapon.
I was panting heavily, and a choking sensation came upon me, but I raced on, since it was for life.
How long the pursuit lasted I cannot tell.

Perhaps a minute.