A cry of horror arose from the ranks of the whites; while the Indians filled the air with yells of exultation, and increased their fire to prevent rescue.
The Indian was within a few feet of the clump from which he had issued, slowly retreating amid the silence of friends and foes, all intently watching his progress, when the report of a rifle rung through the forest, and the savage fell, shot through the very centre of his forehead.
"God bless you, Mr. Honeywood!" shouted Harry: "you had help to do that."
"I asked for it," was the reply, as he leaned against the tree behind which he stood, pale and weak with emotion.
The savages endeavored to shoot the lad as he lay on the ground; but the noble fellow pulled the body of the savage over his own, thus sheltering himself till Harry and Alex, rushing forward, rescued him, Harry escaping unharmed, and Alex with a slight flesh-wound.
"They are not such shots as Honeywood, or neither of you would have come back," said Holdness.
"Hope you've got enough of it now, youngster," said Harry as he put the boy down.
"I want to kill another Indian, and I mean to, 'cause Tony's killed two."
The settlers now found themselves in a position of great peril, being too few in number to advance, while, at the same time, they could not recross the ford without exposing themselves to the same fearful slaughter which they had inflicted upon the Indians.