“Yes; but where are the ‘ragged rascals?’” laughed Allison.
“Vewy twue! Here are the ‘wugged wockth,’ but where are the ‘wagged wathcalth?’” repeated the dandy.
The question was answered by a yell more terrible and ferocious than ever startled a sleeping backwoods settlement when a tribe of ruthless savages woke it up to slaughter.
And forth from the cover of the pine woods leaped a band of fierce brigands, brandishing their bayonets.
CHAPTER X.
AS THE LION WOOS HIS BRIDE.
So light to the croupe the fair lady he swung,
So light to the saddle before her, he sprung.—Scott.
One amazed and startled look assured the party that the guerrillas were upon them.
Some of the young ladies fell upon their faces, screaming with terror.
Others turned to fly, but were met and opposed by the bayonets of the guerrillas, who fenced them on all sides.