"I can see him, trapper," whispered Jamie, as he caught sight of a dark shadow behind a tree fifty yards away, just as the third winged messenger whizzed by.
The trapper had seen that dark form too, and had covered it with his rifle, but he hesitated to fire, and looked behind him uneasily once or twice, as though conscious that some one was advancing from the rear. Were they trapped? Had the stalkers themselves been stalked?
He was not mistaken, for a dark figure was flitting from tree to tree behind them, and each instant coming nearer.
Who could it be?
"Keep your gun levelled at that red devil in front, lad. There's some one approaching from behind! Whether friend or foe, I know not, but I'll soon find out," said the hunter.
Jamie did as he was bid, and before long the opportunity he sought was offered to him. He caught sight of the Algonquin again. As he stood fitting another arrow to his string, his right arm was exposed.
"Bang!" a flash of flame spurted from Jamie's rifle. The leaden messenger found its mark, and the Indian's arm fell helpless at his side, even as he prepared to shoot. With a yell of pain the scout plunged into the thicket and disappeared.
The next moment a dark figure bounded from the cover of a tree in the rear and quickly advanced. The trapper had him covered with his rifle, but the instant he caught sight of his face he dropped the piece and said--
"Welcome, Swift Arrow!"
CHAPTER XVIII