During this speech of Ella, Girty sat and gazed upon her with the look of a baffled demon; and, as she concluded, fairly hissed through his teeth:
"And so you would prefer death to me, eh? By ——! you shall have your choice!"
As he spoke, he grasped Ella by the wrist with one hand, seized his tomahawk with the other, and sprung upon his feet. His rapid movement and wild manner now really frightened her; and uttering a faint cry of horror, she endeavored to release his hold; while the warriors, aroused by the noise, bounded up from the earth, weapon in hand, with looks of alarm.
Turning to them, Girty now spoke a few words in the Indian tongue; and, with significant glances at Ella, they were just in the act of again encamping, when crack went some five or six rifles, followed by yells little less savage than their own, and four of them rolled upon the earth, groaning with pain; while the others, surprised and bewildered, grasped their weapons and shouted:
"The Shemanoes!" "The Long Knives!" not knowing whether to stand or fly.
Girty, meantime, had been left unharmed; although the shivering of the helve of the tomahawk in his hand, in front of his breast, showed him he had been a target for no mean marksman, and that his life had been preserved almost by a miracle. For a moment he stood irresolute—his nostrils fairly dilated with fear and rage, still holding Ella by the wrist, who was too paralyzed with what she had seen to speak or move—straining his eyes in every direction to note, if possible, the number of his foes and whence their approach. The whole glance was momentary; but he saw himself nearly surrounded by his enemies, who were fast closing in toward the center with fierce yells; and pausing no longer in indecision, he encircled Ella's waist with his left arm, raised her from the ground, and keeping her as much as possible between himself and his enemies, to deter them from firing, darted away toward a thicket, some fifty yards distant, pursued by two of the attacking party.
Just as Girty gained the thicket, one of his pursuers made a sudden bound forward and grasped him by the arm; but his hold was the next moment shaken off by the renegade, who, being now rendered desperate, drew a pistol from his belt, with the rapidity of lightning, and laid the bold adventurer dead at his feet. Almost at the same moment, Girty received a blow on the back of his head, from the breech of the rifle of his other antagonist, that staggered him forward; when, releasing his hold of Ella, he turned and darted off in another direction, firing a pistol as he went, the ball of which whizzed close to the head of him for whom it was designed; and in a moment more he was lost in the mazes of the forest.
Meantime the bloody work was going forward in the center; for at the moment when Girty darted away, the report of some three or four rifles again echoed through the wood, two more of the red warriors bit the dust, while the other two fled in opposite directions, leaving Boone and his party sole masters of the field.
Eager, excited, reckless and wild, several of the young men now rushed forward, with yells of triumph, to the wounded Indians, whom they immediately tomahawked without mercy, and began to scalp, when the voice of Boone, who had been more cautious, reached them from a distance:
"Beware o' the fire-light, lads! or the red varmints will draw a bead[11] on some of ye."