The Indians who stood around the shell reeled from the spot, and he whose hatchet had shivered the cap, was flung to the remotest end of the cave, headless and disemboweled.
The cavern, too, was wrapped in darkness, for a portion of the death-freighted missile had scattered the fire, and groans of pain and terror made the place a very Pandemonium.
But this did not last long.
Captain Jack and his principal chiefs luckily escaped injury, and soon a new fire revealed the work of destruction.
Four savages lay dead in the cave, and three others possessed wounds that would soon terminate their existence. The wonder was that the shell did not work greater destruction, and that none but warriors felt its effects.
Baltimore Bob, flung backward against the wall of the cavern, started forward again; but was arrested by a wild cry from Jack.
He turned.
“Where’s Artena?” asked the Modoc chief, pointing to the spot occupied by the Squaw Spy a moment prior to the explosion.
Artena was missing!
Baltimore Bob looked about the cavern, then turned to his chief again.