A moment later the report of a rifle resounded throughout the cave, and the bear rose on his hind feet, and with his front limbs extended like a two-legged monster, came forward to take vengeance for the shot which had plowed a terrible furrow through his eye.
Straight at the girl darted the brute, and retreating to the edge of the corridor with drawn knife, our heroine prepared for the battle.
She glanced at the Destroyer, who, with a low cry, recognized her danger and leaped toward the animal!
In a second he thrust his rifle forward, till it struck bruin’s breast with a dull thud, when his finger pressed the trigger.
There was a groan, the great head dropped upon the black breast, and the vanquished terror of the forest dropped dead at Silver Rifle’s feet.
Then, as the victors turned to the corridor again—for the scene which I have just described occupied but a minute—a dark, elongated form leaped into the cavern.
White Tiger struck as it rose erect before him, and a savage reeled away with a low cry, indicative of death. Another and another Indian made their appearance, and after a desperate resistance, Silver Rifle and the White Tiger found themselves captives once more. Their captors numbered four Chippewas, who quickly assured them that they had caught the glimmer of Silver Rifle’s torch from the water, and had pursued, little dreaming, until they found themselves in the corridor, that they were on the trail of their worst enemies.
Two savages had fallen in the conflict in the cavern, and the captives were secured with strong ropes, and thrown upon the ground near the fire, which the Indians had revived.
Young Webb watched the Indians narrowly, and all at once an expression of surprise crossed his face.
The Indian whom he had dispatched in the darkness was nowhere to be seen!