r for a moment struck the party below to silence. There is
something in boldness and determination that for a time hushes even the
rudest nature. Marks was the only one who remained wholly untouched. He
was deliberately cocking his pistol, and, in the momentary silence that
followed George's speech, he fired at him.

"Ye see ye get jist as much for him dead as alive in Kentucky," he said
coolly, as he wiped his pistol on his coat-sleeve.

George sprang backward,--Eliza uttered a shriek,--the ball had passed
close to his hair, had nearly grazed the cheek of his wife, and struck
in the tree above.

"It's nothing, Eliza," said George, quickly.

"Thee'd better keep out of sight, with thy speechifying," said Phineas;
"they're mean scamps."

"Now, Jim," said George, "look that your pistols are all right, and
watch that pass with me. The first man that shows himself I fire at; you
take the second, and so on. It won't do, you know, to waste two shots on
one."

"But what if you don't hit?"

"I _shall_ hit," said George, coolly.

"Good! now, there's stuff in that fellow," muttered Phineas, between his
teeth.

The party below, after Marks had fired, stood, for a moment, rather
undecided.

"I think you must have hit some on 'em," said one of the men. "I heard a
squeal!"

"I'm going right up for one," said Tom. "I never was afraid of niggers,
and I an't going to be now. Who goes after?" he said, springing up the
rocks.

George heard the words distinctly. He drew up his pistol, examined it,
pointed it towards that point in the defile where the first man would
appear.

One of the most courageous of the party followed Tom, and, the way being
thus made, the whole party began pushing up the rock,--the hindermost
pushing the front ones faster than they would have gone of themselves.
On they came, and in a moment the burly form of Tom appeared in sight,
almost at the verge of the chasm.

George fired,--the shot entered his side,--but, though wounded, he would
not retreat, but, with a yell like that of a mad bull, he was leaping
right across the chasm into the party.

"Friend," said Phineas, suddenly stepping to the front, and meeting him
with a push from his long arms, "thee isn't wanted here."

Down he fell into the chasm, crackling down among trees, bushes, logs,
loose stones, till he lay bruised and groaning thirty feet below. The
fall might have killed him, had it not been broken and moderated by his
clothes catc