The next moment a volley rang out, and ten or twelve of the Indians fell dead or seriously wounded, while several of those who were able to run, were wounded less severely.
Then the soldiers came forward on the run, firing their pistols, and the Indians fled at the top of their speed, their yells of fear, dismay and anger commingled.
They did not try to take their prisoner with them. Those unharmed were glad to get away with their lives, and Dick’s comrades quickly freed his arms, as he explained how he came to be in the hands of the redskins.
“Your shots were the signal for us to advance,” said General Greene. “We guessed that you had gotten into trouble, and so we hastened forward as quickly as possible.”
The settlers now came forth from the fort, and greeted General Greene, his officers and the army warmly.
“We were about out of provisions,” said Mr. Holden, “and could not have held the redskins at bay much longer.”
“Wasn’t there a white man among those Indians?” asked General Greene. “I thought I saw one, a big fellow.”
“Yes,” said Holden, “that was Gabe Gurley, a renegade. He is helping the redskins plunder the homes of the patriots in this part of the country.”
“That’s the scoundrel that captured me,” put in Dick. “He left me a prisoner in an old cabin, but I managed to escape.”
“He said he captured a young fellow, who he guessed was on his way to carry news to the patriot army,” said Holden.