The forest for a considerable distance was open, and afforded a good field for the runners. The distance between Hezekiah and the Shawanoe remained about the same for five or ten minutes, when one of the latter discharged his rifle, and the white sprang high in the air with a loud yell.
But he hadn't been struck. It was only fright. The report of the gun gave an impetus to his flight, and soon carried him far ahead of the redskins. Dodging hither and thither, flitting in and out among the trees, it was impossible for the latter to gain anything like an accurate aim, and they did not repeat the attempt to bring him down.
All was now going well for the fugitive, and he would have escaped had he understood the woods. But his ignorance was fatal. Directly ahead of him was a deep gorge, or ravine, toward which the Shawanoes had managed to turn his face without much difficulty, and unconsciously to himself he was running directly into a trap.
It was not until he was on the very brink that Hezekiah realized his peril. His hair fairly rose on his head, then, as he glanced about him. To the right and left, stretched the deed yawning gorge, too broad to be leaped over, and offering no means of access except a sheer precipice, down which it would have been certain death for him to have gone. Escape was cut off! There was no help for him! He was fairly at bay!
"It's no use of talking," he exclaimed, wheeling round, and placing his back toward the gorge. "I'm cornered this time, and there's going to be a row!"
So saying, he clubbed his rifle, and awaited the onset of the Shawanoes!
CHAPTER XIII.
A STRUGGLE OF LIFE AND DEATH.
The Shawanoes, as we have before stated, had separated during the pursuit, and were now some distance apart. The center one being directly in the rear, was the closest to the fugitive, and came up to him considerably in advance of the others. This was fortunate, in one sense, for Hezekiah Smith, as he then had but a single opponent with which to contend.