It was Bristow who spoke, and as he uttered these words he thrust the muzzle of his carbine through the loophole in front of him. The chorus of ejaculations and remonstrances which arose from the inside of the dug-out showed that the rest of the deserters were not yet ready to resort to the use of their firearms; but Bristow was almost half crazed by rage and fear, and just as somebody seized him from behind and jerked him away from the loophole, his carbine roared, and Bob Owens turned halfway round and staggered back a step or two, as if he were struck and about to fall.
This unexpected act excited Bob's troopers—with whom he was an especial favorite—almost to frenzy. Believing that he had been seriously if not fatally injured—it did not seem possible that anybody could miss a mark of the size of his body at the distance of ten paces—one of them sprang forward to support him, while the others discharged their carbines at the loopholes in rapid succession. Their volley was not entirely without effect, for a loud yell of agony came from the inside of the dug-out, bearing testimony to the fact that one bullet at least had found a target somewhere on the person of one of the deserters.
Storming the Dug-Out.
He gently released himself from the embrace of the strong arms that had been thrown around him, and looked down at the gaping rent Bristow's bullet had made in the breast of his coat. The missile had passed through his thick carbine-sling and breast-belt, had cut into his coat, vest and shirt, and ploughed a deep furrow through a well-filled wallet which he carried in his inside pocket. Fortunately, it was a glancing shot, but the force with which it struck him was almost sufficient to knock him off his feet.
"I'm not hurt at all," said he as his men crowded about him, "but I shall have to put a patch on my coat when I get back to the post.—I say, there," he shouted, addressing himself to the inmates of the dug-out, "was there anybody hurt in there? I thought I heard a yell."
"Yes, and you'll hear another yell if you don't go away and let us alone," replied Bristow. "I'll make a better shot the next time I pull on you."
"All right!" said Bob. "I'll give you a chance in just about five minutes.—Loring," he added in a lower tone, "you and Phillips stay here and hold the horses, and the rest of you follow me."
"Are you going to storm them?" asked Loring.