The savage was a much more formidable foe than the other, and Joe Napyank, being greatly exhausted from his recent terrible struggle, he was in a poor condition to receive him. Nevertheless there was no avoidance, and he showed an undaunted front. The Shawanoe halted a moment, as if to decide upon the best methods of attack, and then with the same yell, as his predecessor gave, he sprang forward.
He had passed over half the intervening space, when he gave utterance to another outcry, not of exultation, but of agony, and throwing up his arms, fell dead!
The hunter had caught the report of a rifle, and saw a red spot appear on the forehead of the Indian, so that he understood instantly that he had been shot. The remaining aborigine, having seen all, displayed his common sense by turning on his heel, and fleeing at the top of his speed.
But whence had come this shot so opportunely? What friend had he in the Dark and Bloody Ground? How came he to be here at the critical moment?
Joe looked inquiringly around, and for the space of a few moments, his question remained unanswered. But while still wondering, who should step forth to view but Stoddard Smith?
“Just in time, it seems!” he exclaimed cheerily as he came forward and grasped his hand.
“I never was so glad to see a man in my life. How came you to be here at this time?”
“Looking for you, and what made you leave me?”
A few words explained all.
“It was Providence that brought me here,” added Young Smith. “I think he is smiling on our efforts to obtain Ruth.”