As quick as thought their clubbed rifles came down upon the occupants of the foremost canoe, some of whom in their wild rage had attempted to leap into the chamber. Yells, cries and groans rung out through the dark depths, presenting a scene of the wildest confusion. The Indians pressing in the rear let fly another volley of arrows, but most of them passed over the heads of the assailed, who had temporarily beaten back those in the foremost canoe. At this instant a heavy object fell with a crash in one of the canoes, striking down some of its occupants, and tipping it over.
“Thet’s it—the rocks,” shouted Mace.
“Ay, dthim’s dthe boys. Musha, take dthat, ye haithens. Och, we’ll bate dthem wud sthones, so!”
In less time than it takes to describe it, the Irishman had inaugurated this species of warfare. There were plenty of loose rocks in the chamber, and the rangers hurled these so rapidly among the crowd of assailants that the latter were glad to withdraw out of range as quick as possible. The moment they did so the rangers began again to reload, a torch left in a remote corner of the room affording sufficient light. They could hear their assailants still moving away in the darkness.
The rangers now had time to glance at each other, and question Goodbrand, whose timely aid ten minutes previous had probably saved them all from capture or death. His statement was brief. His companion, Joe Hill, had escaped, while he himself had been struck down with a hatchet as he ran. Being brought forward and recognized, they were about to sacrifice him on the spot, so great was their rage; but at that moment came the shots fired by Revel and Mace upon those endeavoring to force the passage. In the increased rush to this spot only three or four were left around Goodbrand. While the attention of these was for a moment diverted, the thongs with which Goodbrand was bound were cut, and he recognized the whisper of Noochekin in his ear:
“Me pay back you now for savin’ my life on the lake. If catch ag’in you die. Debt paid now. Go.”
He darted away, and was pursued, Noochekin himself joining in the chase. The latter stumbled over a log, retarding the rest, till Goodbrand disappeared behind a lodge. Thence he crept under a jut of the bank, where he lay, till fearing discovery, he dropped under the water, intending to swim into the chamber. As we have seen, he was in time to aid his friends.
“Then the canoe side o’ the entrance must ’a’ be’n watchin’ for ye?” said Scarred Eagle.
“No—watchin’ for you,” was the answer. “It come round the jut as me started to swim. They mistrusted some trick, an’ meant if was in here you shouldn’t git ’way.”
“It must be—yes, Goodbrand; you’re right. The devils hev be’n beat too bad to neglect watchin’ any p’int which may look ’s ’ough we mout take advantage of it. We’re in our last corner, chaps, an’ thar’s no need o’ denyin’ it; but we’ll rest awhile, ef the scamps ’ll let up, an’ prepare to meet ’em when they come. ’Twon’t be soon, uther, ’cos they kain’t but see they’ve got us.”