A ringing shout of defiance came back as the little band swept onward, answered by hoarse, threatening cries from the mixed party, now joined by the guards of wagons.
The leader of the small party now turned in his saddle, and glanced swiftly over his right shoulder.
The pursuers were led by a flashily attired man, who held a big rifle in his left hand, guiding the steed he bestrode with the other.
With a quick motion the little captain’s rifle was thrown upward, until the steel-bound butt rested against his shoulder; his keen eyes flashed over the clouded tube, and a loud report rang out.
Crack!
Like a sharp snap of a whip, the rifle sent forth its death-note.
The leader of the mixed band tumbled to the ground, while the riderless horse scampered away.
Crack, bang!
Two reports answered the opening fire of the running fight.
One of the brave fellows fell headlong from his horse.