"The convicts, I guess," whispered Charley, "I don't understand why they are firing, though. All the Indians are here."
Significant glances passed between the Indians.
"Jackals are dead," said the chief, a fierce exultation in his face.
"Who killed them?" cried Charley.
"Crocodiles," said the Seminole, briefly.
The little party stared at each other in horror. They understood now why the Seminoles had not made an attack, and had showed so much confidence in the convicts not being able to escape.
Much as the hunters hated the men who had persecuted them, they felt shocked and horror-stricken at the horrible fate that had overtaken them.