Apparently this worthy became fully convinced that the emigrants were soundly sleeping in false security, for he at length began to climb over the barricade. Perhaps he was after plunder, or mayhap he was a young brave, burning to distinguish himself and to win a name among his people, by taking the first scalp.
But if so, he was doomed never to realize his dream, for as he leaped lightly to the ground, a pair of strong hands were instantly twined around his throat, effectually checking all outcry, while another of the emigrants plunged a keen knife deep into the broad, swelling chest. One faint, gurgling groan, a convulsive quiver, and the spirit of the red-man fled from the ghastly wound and took up the trail to the happy hunting-grounds.
Tom Maxwell glided quickly to the scene of death, and bent eagerly over the corpse, scanning its features closely by the clear moonlight.
“It’s a dratted ’Rapahoe, boys, but I don’t know him. You did it up slick, but it’s on’y jest a beginnin’; they’ll send out another, when he don’t come back on time, to l’arn what’s up. So hunker down an’ wait. Don’t one o’ you fire, though, ontel I give the word.”
Perhaps another half-hour slowly dragged its weary length along, before any thing more occurred to break this painful suspense, and then another dusky form was observed coming from much the same direction as that followed by the ill-fated spy. They all knew that the crisis was now close at hand, and every nerve was steeled, and though many a heart beat faster than usual, there was none that fluttered with fear.
The second spy had advanced to within a dozen yards of the corral, when one of the eagerly watching emigrants fell forward, and accidentally touched the trigger of his cocked rifle. The sharp report rung out upon the still night-air, sounding to the startled men like the roar of artillery.
At the same moment the spy arose to his feet and turned to flee, uttering a wild whoop of alarm. But it was his last cry upon earth, for the quick eye of Maxwell directed the unerring rifle, and at the red skin’s second leap, the quick report rung out, and the second victim of the list that was yet to follow, died without a groan.
Like an accompaniment to the double shot, there came a blood-curdling chorus of yells and whoops, and a horde of dusky fiends were seen to spring up as if from the bowels of the earth, upon the level plain beyond.
“Look out, boys! here they come!” yelled old Tom, as he sprung to his feet and began rapidly reloading his rifle. “Take it cool, but gi’e them h—l. It’s fer life, now!”
As the dusky fiends swarmed close to the barricade, a blinding flash rose along the line, and at such near quarters, the effect was deadly in the extreme. Shrill cries of agony were blended with yells of rage, as a number of assailants fell, dead or dying, before the scathing volley.