“It’s a traitor—Sime Hulet—head him off, Mace, quick!” shouted Will, who had recognized the speaker.
The next moment there was a series of shouts and bounds, and Will saw the traitor fall to the earth before the sweep of Mace’s rifle. Then the cry of a night-hawk, distinct and clear, rung through the forest.
“Back, all on ye, back!” said Mace, as he met Revel and saw his companions rushing up. “Thar’s nigh twenty uv the cussed p’isons, an’ half on ’em ar’ comin’ this way. Back, an’ get a better spot to meet ’em in!”
As he spoke they all heard the bounds of the Indians close by. Aside from this, Revel remembered the signal of Moorooine. The spot they were in was quite open, being the upper part of the cleared space which Hulet had sought to avoid. The gloom here was not yet so deep but that their forms would be well outlined, and present fair marks to the Indians hurrying up. Without loss of time the rangers darted back and obtained cover.
Every weapon was soon reloaded. Fully alive to the occasion, the men stationed themselves a little distance apart and listened for their foes. Not a word was spoken, and even their very breaths were hushed.
Ten minutes thus passed. It was equally still beyond the open space. But suddenly a movement was heard a few rods away, and the gaze of the men was strained toward the place whence it appeared to come. The fast-approaching darkness however, began to render objects on the open space very indistinct.
Will Revel glided noiselessly to the side of Mace.
“Take ’eer!” cautioned the latter. “We’re in a hornet’s nest jes’ now. How’d ye find out ’bout thet cussed Hulet?”
Will rapidly explained.
“Hah! Then ’twar the Injun gal thet jest gave the signal!”