Kenton had given the name of "battle" to this maneuver of his; but it was neither more nor less than a trick, and such an one as the savages themselves most delighted in.
They had no good cause to be joyous over this one, however, for it worked as Kenton had counted on, and before the painted wolves understood the game, they had received a lesson such as I warrant they never forgot.
When the three of us were in position Simon Kenton gave the signal, and we prodded vigorously with the poles.
In a twinkling half a dozen rifles were discharged from different points amid the foliage, thus showing that the enemy was keeping sharp watch, and we each had a target.
From, out of our barricade whistled three bullets, and every one found its mark!
It was only with difficulty that I repressed a cry of triumph, for now I began to understand that we might soon clear a way for ourselves, unless this band of reptiles had more real courage than their race usually displayed when pitted against white men.
After an interval of five minutes or more we repeated the maneuver, receiving a similar reply as before, and were able to deal death or wounds to another trio.
"Six wiped out or disabled in as many minutes!" Simon Kenton said in a low tone of triumph. "What do you think now of my battle, lads?"
"If they will fall into the trap twice more, we can count on having this bank of the river to ourselves," I replied incautiously loud, and the scout said warningly:
"Have a care, Louis, have a care. If they suspect what kind of a game we are playin' there'll be little chance of their doin' as we wish."