“I’m not afraid of missing,” said Raymond, “but it makes me sick to think of potting them like rats.”
Still the advance continued, with an occasional shot. By that time the men were so close that their features could be plainly distinguished, and the boys were surprised to see that the bandits were white as themselves. The mountain tribes of Central Daghestan, the Lesghians, are a conglomerate race. There are many tribes, of many different origins, and some of them have very fair skin.
“If I wait much longer I shan’t be able to shoot at all. I’m beginning to shake now. If only they weren’t white! It wouldn’t be half so bad if they were black. As soon as the man on this side shoots again I’m going to wing them.” And Raymond examined his revolver carefully, bringing the hammer back to full cock.
“Do you mean you will only disable them? Do you think that would be wise?” “No; I’ll shoot to kill.” And there was a look of fixed determination on Raymond’s face, which was whiter than before.
In a moment a bullet from the bandit on their side spattered the rocks. Raymond stepped quickly out from the shelter with his revolver pointing over his right shoulder as he held it high before him. Bringing the gun forward into position with the lightning sureness of one accustomed to shooting a heavy pistol, the instant it reached a level before his eyes he fired, without appearing to take any aim. The man in the distance turned half around and pitched down to one side.
Not waiting to note the effect of his shot, Raymond stepped to the left, beyond the projecting spur of rock which formed the cove, bringing himself in range of the other bandit, who was raising his gun into position. The boy threw his revolver up and brought it down to a level with the same lightning precision, and fired. The man in front also fired, but a thought too late, and his bullet went wild. He dropped his gun and lunged forward, falling on his face.
Raymond had moved with absolute certainty and incredible quickness, but now that the dreadful business was concluded, his pistol hand fell nervelessly to his side and he leaned, trembling, against the wall of the cove.
“Don’t feel like that about it, Ray.” And Sidney placed his hand affectionately on his brother’s shoulder. “There was no other way, but I’m sorry you had to do it instead of me.”
“When we had fights with the Mexicans last winter there was always the excitement of a battle that made it seem inevitable, but this was so cold-blooded that it really got my nerve.”
“Shall we go out and look at those men?” asked Sidney. “They may be only stunned.” “You needn’t worry about that. I’m sure they’re dead, but I don’t think I want to see them. How about taking their guns, though?”