“Quick—good God!” exclaimed Brom, as he drew him in, “we’ve lost by this. There they come!”
“Gi-gi—stoo—gi—durn ye all—stoop down, thar!” came at this moment, in a ringing voice from shore.
All recognized it and huddled down, as two canoes, full of their pursuers, surged up not three boat’s-lengths behind. The next moment a dozen rifles rung out from the shore, followed by despairing shouts and groans behind.
“Thank God! Hurrah for the victory!” shouted Brom, the others joining in.
“Come i-i—come in!” shouted Joe Hill. “Ar’ ye all thar?”
“All but Rhodan an’ Mace. Look for them up-shore. Never mind us.”
And then, standing up, Brom pressed Moorooine to his breast, without speaking.
The next instant, the canoe touched the shore, and a group of hardy men waited to receive them, foremost among whom were Scarred Eagle and Ben Mace!
“Ay, boy!” said the former, with a tremor in his voice, “Providence has ordered that we ain’t yit to part.”
Still clasping the Indian girl, Brom put his hand tenderly on Rhodan’s shoulder and undertook to speak, but his voice failed him. They all met, as brothers long separated, the rescued all grasping the hands of Scarred Eagle, Mace and Joe Hill, in turn.