“I’ve killed him,” he cried. “Now we must fight the devils in the corridor.”
There was no time to look, for the savages who had followed them from the lake shore were quite near, and, as the couple waited for them to turn a curve that they might fire, a low, angry growl issued from the corridor.
“They’ve roused a bear among the rocks,” said Silver Rifle, “and the beast is being driven down upon us. He has turned the bend now; I hear him among the loose rocks; wait till the Indians follow his example. There! they’re around now. Ready—shoot low to kill Bruin if possible—fire!”
Simultaneously the rifles cracked, and the howl of brute and humanity were blended in the darkness.
The next instant the youth sprung to the smoldering fire, and a kick illumined the cavern with a dim light, which revealed the mouth of the corridor, beside which Silver Rifle stood with ready weapon.
The entrance was scarcely large enough to admit of the passage of a bear, and two persons stationed there could defend it against numbers of an enemy.
The bear had been wounded, and a moment after the shots, he turned with a howl of pain upon the Indians, who rose with cries of horror, and poured a volley into the infuriated beast. They shot at random, for they could not see him; but some of the shots took effect, and more painful howls followed. Then suddenly, with the impetuosity of a thunderbolt, he sprung past the young besieged, and confronted them with menacing attitude and defiant growls in the light of the flickering fire.
Here was a new danger, a new enemy to be met, and the now antagonist showed fight, and even moved slowly toward our friends at the mouth of the corridor.
Silver Rifle glanced at the young Destroyer, and then raised her rifle.
He saw this, then was compelled to look away, for the Indians were moving in the corridor again.