“Yes; a trained, pet eagle. Have you met Rodger Rainbolt?”
“Yes; it was he who dealt—” began Frank, but at this juncture Flick O’Flynn appeared from the entrance and interrupted him, saying:
“Ay, b’ys, and it’s a divil av a time we’re going to have. The red divils have found out our hiding-sphot, and th’y’re swharming like hornits arhound us on the outside. Musha! it’s fite ’r stharve, so bring yer tools, b’ys, and come to the front.”
“Isn’t this cavern called Bear’s Cave?” suddenly asked Barker, as they started to their feet in alarm.
“Indade it is,” responded O’Flynn.
“Great Heavens!” exclaimed Barker, “I had forgotten the place. Do you know that there are two entrances to it?”
“Ho’y mother, no!” responded Flick.
Footsteps sounded in the passage behind them. They glanced back. A cry of horror escaped each lip, for with a flaming torch in one hand and a tomahawk in the other, they beheld a score of savages, led by the young chief Allacotah, advancing toward them.
Quick as thought Frank and Willis raised their repeating rifles and fired. Allacotah fell dead, with a bullet through his heart. Again and again the young men fired until every chamber of their rifles was empty. A savage fell at every shot. The others recoiled, then when the war-whoop of another party coming in at the entrance rolled through the cavern, they rallied and closed in upon our friends.
The conflict was short. Our friends were all, save one, overpowered and made prisoners. Gustave Barker, like the phantom that he seemed, had glided from the cavern and made his escape in the woods.