The gun that had served him so well was in his grasp again, and a feeling of self-confidence came with it.
Much less time had passed since the disaster to the patriots on the other side the Susquehanna than would be supposed; but, while the settler lay stretched out on the rock, watching for the second Indian, he became aware that he was watching by the aid of moonlight and starlight alone.
It was all the harder to keep close guard, but it was indispensable, and he doubted not that when he pulled trigger a second time another Seneca would take a header down the ravine.
Some fifteen minutes passed, when Mr. Brainerd either saw, or fancied he saw, a precisely similar fluttering movement as preceded the leap of him who fell a victim to his marksmanship.
He held his gun pointed, the hammer raised, and his finger on the trigger, ready to fire the second it should become necessary.
He was not kept waiting; sooner than he anticipated, the crouching figure shot out into the air, as if propelled from a catapult, and, with the same remarkable aim, the patriot pulled the trigger at the moment the warrior was at the arch of the brief parabola.
But, to his consternation, the powder flashed in the pan, and no discharge followed the dull click of the flint.
CHAPTER XXII.
With the body of the Seneca covered by the rifle of Mr. Brainerd the latter pulled the trigger, at the very moment the body was in mid-air, but the gun was undischarged.