While Peter spoke he was glancing sharply about them. He was accustomed to the ways of those old mountaineers, and felt quite certain that trouble was lurking near. His experience in feuds had taught him about what to expect, and he would not likely be caught unawares.
"Ef ye kin," he continued, "unhook yer gun, fer they's a-goin' ter be somethin' doin' soon."
The words had hardly passed from his lips when there sang over their heads the "zing" of a rifle bullet.
"Thar ye air," shouted Peter. "We mout a-looked for that shore. Git ready, now, an' when ye see a black spot down ther road let 'em have it good an' straight."
"Bling!" Another bullet passed harmlessly near. "Bling!" one was sent back.
"Move up a little, Jack," said Peter, tapping his horse. "I'm not a-feered,—don't want ye ter think that,—but they be too many fer us to stop an' argify with."—"Bling!" "Blang!"—"Give 'em thunder, boy. Thar they air!"—"Bling!"—"Git to t'other side o' ther road, Jack"—"Blang!"—"we air too close together, so's they cain't hit us so easy."—"Blang!" "Blang!"—"Keep it a-goin', boy, ye'll git used ter ther ways o' the mountain yet"—"Blang!"—"Ther durn fool!" ejaculated Peter, grunting loudly.
"What's the matter?" asked Wade.
"The tip end o' one o' my fingers is gone clear as a whistle, that's what ther matter is, boy. Give it to 'em, now,—thar they air, but they hain't a-coming so fast. Think we must hit somebody that time. What air they now? I don't see 'em anymore."
"Neither do I. They have given up, Peter, as sure as you live; they've quit the fight. Somebody got a bullet."
"Don't be too shore, boy; they must be foolin' us and' goin' 'round to head us off. I've been through mor'n a dozen sich fights as this,—got two bullet holes in one leg at ther same scrap,—but they hain't got old Peter yet. I guess it's all over for this time, Wade. Follow me now, quick. I'm goin' ter give 'em the slip. We'll go clean 'round that hill yonder, an' they won't know whatever become of us, ef they do try to out-trick us."