Still wondering how the Indians were aware of their hiding-place, and hoping against hope that such was not the case, the two comrades still crouched in the grass; but in a very short time their doubts were at an end, for having formed a complete cordon the horsemen began to gallop round and round and at the same time gradually closing in upon their quarry.
"Do not let them get close enough to throw their bolas," cautioned Henri, "or we shall be entangled and as helpless as rats in a trap."
"Back to back, then," said Dacres. "Don't fire unless it is absolutely necessary."
The Indians had received warning in the night from one of their number who had come across the strange trail. Knowing that the two men were without horses—a rare occurrence on the plains—they came to the right conclusion that the strangers were in difficulties. Thus, they decided, it would be an easy matter to kill them, rob their bodies and bury them. The disappearance of two white men in a country where murder is a common, everyday occurrence, would raise little or no comment on the part of the lax authorities of the Valderian Republic.
Up sprang the two comrades, and steadying their revolvers in the crook of the left arm, each aimed at the Indian nearest to him. The crowd, without slackening speed, increased the distance between them and their intended victims, shouting the while in a jargon of which Henri, who could understand the language of his father's servants, failed to grasp the meaning.
After a while the Indians, who failed to understand why the two men refrained from opening fire, began to contract their circular formation. They could only come to the conclusion that the strangers' ammunition was exhausted, and that they were merely pointing empty weapons in the hope that the horsemen would beat a retreat.
Nevertheless, the attackers took ample precautions. Still keeping their horses at a hot pace, they threw themselves sideways out of the saddle, holding on only by one foot thrown across the backs of their steeds. Thus, practically sheltered by their horses' bodies, the Indians presented no great target to the white men's weapons.
Dacres understood their tactics. The constant whirling of the living circle tended to daze the senses of the two men in the centre. The Indians, having come within easy throwing distance, would hurl their bolas, then rush in and complete their murderous work with their keen knives.
"Fire!" exclaimed Dacres.
Two shots rang out as one. The Englishman's bullet brought down a horse, throwing its rider headlong and causing the animal immediately behind to stumble. As the Indian behind the second horse fell clear another shot from Dacres settled his little account.