"Kill them! Kill them!"
He half turned his head, believing it was Jim who had raised the last cry, and just at that instant he saw the mulatto aim a blow at Captain Preston's head with the club; he understood that it was parried by the officer's arms, and then noted with satisfaction the fact that as the weapon descended it knocked a musket from the hands of a soldier.
It was to him more like a dream than a reality when he saw the mulatto raise the musket quickly, as if to use it upon the officer, and at that moment some one, Amos never knew who, shouted:
"Why don't you fire? Why don't you fire?"
Instantly, above the shouts and yells of the multitude, was heard the sharp, ominous crack of a musket, then another and another, until six reports seemed literally to cleave the air, while before him, and on either side of him, Amos saw men fall; saw the crimson blood gushing from gaping wounds, and then it was as if consciousness deserted him.
CHAPTER VI.
AFTER THE MASSACRE.
Amos was brought to a consciousness of his surroundings by the wailings of Jim, who, regardless of everything save his own sore affliction, was kneeling by the side of his brother, trying to staunch a sluggish flow of blood, which was issuing from Sam's forehead.