With incredible celerity the Iroquois fired their guns almost simultaneously with the Tory, and then darted off like so many shadows through the wood, the dim morning light being insufficient to betray them in the thick undergrowth.
But Dick Durkee and his men returned the volley instantly, and sprang after them.
Fred Godfrey had not noticed the fall of his father, but, with his whole soul aflame at the outrage, he dashed toward the wretches, pistol in hand, determined to wreak vengeance on the party, who, he well knew, were inspired to the deed by Golcher himself.
On the edge of the wood, where the Senecas had stood for a single moment when they fired their guns, two of their number were stretched lifeless, proving that the return volley had done some execution.
The settlers charged through the undergrowth without any regard to order and the peril into which they might precipitate themselves.
Had Gray Panther and his warriors appeared on the ground at that crisis, in all probability he would have drawn the entire party into ambush, and cut them off to a man.
But the fleeing force was too small to attempt a stand, or any such tactics, and they devoted themselves entirely to getting away.
They were more expert in this than their pursuers, and scattering—as is the custom of the red men to this day, when closely pressed—each used all his energy and cunning in flight.
Dick Durkee and his men, including Fred Godfrey, went crashing and tearing ahead, glaring in front and to the right and left in quest of a target, but finding none, until, when the blind pursuit had lasted fifteen minutes or more, it dawned on those concerned that it was idle to attempt anything more.
Then they stopped for breath, and, turning about, began straggling back toward camp.