“I s’pose so—you kin see dey’re purty thick out dere.”
Inwood produced a match and set fire to the fuse. It burned quite rapidly, like the string of a Chinese cracker.
“Throw it out as quick as it reaches the sand!” called Edwin from the cave.
“Golly, it’s dar now!” exclaimed Jim, springing up, and preparing to toss it out among the Mohaves gathered outside. Unfortunately, his elbow struck the side of the entrance, and the bombshell dropped at his feet. Believing it about to explode, the negro ran back in dismay, when Inwood, with remarkable coolness, drew the huge boulder a little to one side, and, catching up the stone, swung it through the opening. Before the Mohaves could understand the intent of this, the terrible object burst into a thousand fragments, and with wild whoops of terror, the red men scattered in every direction, as though they themselves were a portion of an immense bombshell which had exploded.
The success of Edwin’s scheme, and delight of our friends were complete.
“Anybody killed?” asked Jim, and his companion peered cautiously around the edge of the boulder.
“I suppose not; but they have been hit and frightened almost out of their senses, and that will do as much good as though it had slain half a dozen of them. I don’t believe they will come back again.”
“Dunno ’bout dat; dey’re a queer set ob darkeys, am de Injins.”
“I don’t think, from what I have heard, that these Mohaves are the bravest tribe of Indians in California, and they are too much afraid of us to make much trouble so long as we remain in the cave. And that reminds me of our prisoner—what are we to do with him?”
“Kill him,” was the decided response.