rmed.

They were coming forward, and on all sides. "Remember, what John used to
tell us: it is the shots that hit which count. Fire deliberately, and
keep together. Do not use your revolvers until they are close, and you
cannot use the guns."

Closer and closer they came, and Muro and the men were silent. "Now, get
ready! Shoot deliberately!"

The first salvo was fired. It was a staggering blow. They reloaded,
while the enemy was trying to recover, and the second volley belched
forth.

Then, when the execution was noticed, and they saw their people fall all
about them, they charged forward in one mass, and the boys looked at
each other, for a moment, and George reached over and gave Harry's hand
one pressure, and then turned away and began to fire as fast as he could
aim the weapon.

They were still coming on. The demons were nearly up to the log. For
some reason the savages did not heed those who fell. It had not struck
terror into their hearts, as the boys hoped. How would this end? The
enemy was now too close to make their guns of any use. The revolvers
were drawn, and the cracks from them became almost a continuous roar.

They were still coming. Soon the ammunition would be gone. The boys
realized this. They were determined to die fighting, and they began to
feel for their knives which must be the final act in the great tragedy.

Then they heard something louder than the cracks of their own weapons
and the shrieks of the devils around them. Some one was shooting. They
could see the startled faces of the savages, as they turned and swung
around. The attack ceased, and Muro sprang up on the log, with a yell.

Could he be mad? The boys were stupefied. "Come on!" cried Muro. "Here
is John!"

This announcement, coming at an unexpected moment, was such a reaction
to the poor boys, that they could hardly raise themselves. Another
volley; they could hear it now. There was another yell from the savages,
and then they could be seen rushing through the brush.

The men with John ran up, and John struggled forward through the weeds.
"Are you hurt?" asked John, as he sprang to the side of the boys.

"No! no!" cried George, and he fell down, overcome with the excitement,
while Harry could not speak for a moment.

"That was a close call," said John. "We heard the first shots an hour
ago, and we turned to take this direction. Then we heard nothing for a
long time, and as we were coming over the hill beyond the firing