"Tie this handkerchief around my arm above that bullet hole, and then twist it with a stick until the blood stops. I'll use the revolver in the meanwhile so he'll know we haven't gone far."
Jim did as he was directed, and Jet discharged one chamber of the weapon every few seconds, taking good aim at the clump of bushes behind which he believed Sam was hiding.
Twice he loaded his revolver, and twice exploded every cartridge before the surgical work was done, and then Jim seized his own weapon, saying as he did so:
"That fellow has got a good chance now to creep around behind us an' let the others loose. Then the fat will be in the fire for certain, because we shan't even have a chance to run away."
This was a possibility which Jet had failed to take into consideration, and for the first time since the battle began he was thoroughly alarmed.
He did not know whether it would be best to go up to the encampment or remain where he was, either course seemed fraught with danger, and he was beginning to despair when the sound of a human voice startled both him and Jim.
"Hold up your hands!" some one shouted, the speaker evidently being between the lake and Sam's hiding-place.
"Drop that revolver, but don't lower your arm!" was the next command, and Jet cried joyfully:
"Some one has come to help us, Jim, and it don't make much matter who, for we can get him to help take the prisoners up to the village."
The small guide had recovered all his lost courage immediately upon hearing the words, and was dancing about in a triumphant manner, but much too cautious to venture from his hiding-place until knowing to a certainty that the enemy was really disarmed.