“Now—down quickly!” was the excited command of Scarred Eagle.
Both sprung down and rushed out. By the time this was accomplished the frenzied crowd were rushing like mad devils in the direction of the shots.
“Push for the bluff!” cried Rhodan to the Indian girl; and as he spoke he sprung to the side of Devine. But the latter had already nearly got his arms loose, and one dash with Scarred Eagle’s knife completed the work.
“Och! Howly Mother—”
“Away with ye—run!”
The Irishman bounded off. As Scarred Eagle started he cast a quick glance back and saw that half a dozen of the Indians, notwithstanding the sudden confusion, had caught a glimpse of what was going on and were rushing back like a tornado. At the same moment a startling shout at his left caused him to turn his head. Two Indians had already reached the spot, having rushed up behind the council-house.
One of these had pounced upon the Indian girl, and his hatchet was already elevated, when the shout, came quickly followed by a blow so powerful that the fellow dropped to rise no more.
“Run, Moorooine—take the one after Tim, Revel—ah-ha, Rhodan, here the devils come!”
It was the voice of Brom Vail. Scarred Eagle had already raised his rifle as the young man spoke; and as the words left his lips, their rifles spoke together. The Indians involuntarily halted before the shock, while Rhodan and Brom turned like lightning and sprung toward the bluff. Revel had just felled the Indian who pursued Devine. The latter was near the bluff, the Indian girl quite near him.
“Push on!” cried Revel; and as he spoke he raised his rifle. Two reports rung out, and instinctively Scarred Eagle and Brom turned.