"Yes," Ivon muttered, crossing himself piously; "but we shall be killed."
"Probably," the Canadian said.
"Fall back!" the Count ordered.
The three men then began to retire slowly toward the wood, the only shelter that offered, without separating, and still pointing their rifles at the Indians. The Redskins are brave, even rash; that question cannot be disguised or doubted; but with them courage is calculated; they never fight save to gain an object, and are not fond of risking their lives unprofitably. They hesitated.
"I fancy we did well to reload our arms," the Count said, ironically, but with perfect calmness.
"By Jove!" Bright-eye said, with a grin.
"No matter, I am very frightened," Ivon groaned his eyes sparkling and his lips quivering.
"Eha, sons of blood!" Natah Otann shouted, as he cocked his gun. "Do three Palefaces frighten you? Forward! Forward!"
The Indians uttered their war yell, and rushed on the hunters. The other Indians, warned of what was happening by the shouts of their comrades, ran up hurriedly to take part in the fight.