"There is no time to lose; the braves must not hide behind their ponies in that way, or we shall be obliged to fire at their bodies and kill them. They must come out so that we can shoot them in the legs."
The reader who has reached this point will likely say, "Well, Mr.
Author, you are a bright individual. Why did not the Indians fire?"
The truth is, they had no firearms, being supplied only with hatchets
and spears; and they were not aware that the scouts had pistols.
"But we have nothing more to fear from them, mademoiselle," Julie said, "wherefore need we fire at them?"
"Nor do I intend to do so, Julie; I am only bent now on so frightening them that they will no more attempt pursuit. Moreover, I am anxious that they shall convey tidings of our bloodthirstiness among all the tribes; for when such rumour obtains circulation, we shall be harassed less by pursuit."
"C'est bien, ma maitresse; c'est bien."
"No more delay," shouted Annette. "Let the two braves stand up," But each one lay close under the lee of a struggling horse, holding the animal fast by the head, in order to keep him sure in the swamp.
"Put you up your pistol, Julie; leave this work to me." And once more presenting her little round, ferocious arm, she fired, hitting one of the shielding horses upon the fore shoulder. Maddened with pain, the brute flung himself out of his predicament, and left the Indian exposed, upon which Annette immediately fired. The savage uttered a terrible cry, flung up his arms, and fell without a move among the liverwort.
"Did you kill him, after all, mademoiselle?"
"No, Julie; the wretch is only shamming. I fired yards away from him. Now let the other brave stand up, or the same fate awaits him," the girl cried; and, presenting a picture of abject terror, the unfortunate redskin, who believed the third one shot at to be dead, drew himself out of his covert, and, putting his leg upon the horse, exposed himself to the pistol. Once more the bloodthirsty little scout fired, and with an agonized yell, the Indian sprawled in the marsh-mire. His leg he seized just above the knee, as if the bullet had entered at that point.
"Is he hit?" whispered Julie.