This was enough. Tom knew that sufficient was revealed to bury a bullet in, so that it would touch the seat of life, and that by waiting for a better target, he might spoil all.
Slowly and deliberately, as if aiming at a target of wood, the rifle drew upon the unsuspecting savage, and the black eye of the Delaware flashed along the dark tube with a deadly glare. And then his finger tightened upon the trigger.
The whip-like crack rung out with startling clearness; but it was blended with a horrible yell of agony, as the stricken savage writhed upon the ground in his death-throes. Delaware Tom seldom found it necessary to fire twice at the same object.
As the sounds broke the air, the horses, that had been quietly cropping the rich grass, snorted with affright, and after turning their heads wildly, sprung off a few yards; then stood with trembling limbs, eying the strange scene.
As Tom had anticipated, the unexpected shot had so startled the red-skins that they sprung up from their coverts and glared wildly around in search of their hidden foe. Cries of wondering fear broke from their lips.
Then a spout of flame shot forth from the line of bushes upon the hillside, and a second messenger of death sped upon its way; another of the savages reeled wildly, and then fell to the ground, the hot life-blood gurgling from his chest.
Delaware Tom snatched his revolver and discharged it, uttering a wild yell—the war-whoop that had more than once carried terror and confusion into the hearts of his foemen. Though this shot did not seem to have taken effect, the bold fellow sprung forth from the water, and pealing forth his yell, sprung toward the surviving Arapahoes, firing as he came.
Simultaneously, there echoed back a hoarse cheer from the hillside, and Travers sprung into view, his revolver echoing back the quick reports from that in the hands of the Delaware.
As yet the Arapahoes had not burned a grain of powder, so greatly were they confused by this sudden and deadly onset. The two men dashing toward them, with rapidly detonating pistols, were magnified ten-fold, and, as with one accord, the survivors turned and fled from the spot of death, with wild screeches of dismay and terror.
“Hurrah, Tom! spot them—they’re ours!” shouted Travers, wild with excitement, as his revolver sent a bullet crashing into the brain of a third red-skin. “Don’t let one get away!”