fle, tomahawk, and
knife, and Paul and Shif'less Sol were unarmed. Moreover, they were
coming fast, spreading out slightly, and the shiftless one, able even
at such a time to weigh the case coolly, saw that the odds were against
them. Yet he would not despair. Anything might happen. It was night.
There was little organization in the army of the Indians and of their
white allies, which was giving itself up to the enjoyment of scalps and
torture. Moreover, he and Paul were, animated by the love of life, which
is always stronger than the desire to give death.

Their flight led them in a diagonal line toward the mountains. Only once
did the pursuers give tongue. Paul tripped over a root, and a triumphant
yell came from the Mohawks. But it merely gave him new life. He
recovered himself in an instant and ran faster. But it was terribly hard
work. He could hear Shif'less Sol's sobbing breath by his side, and he
was sure that his own must have the same sound for his comrade.

"At any rate one uv 'em is beat," gasped Shif'less Sol. "Only four are
ban-in' on now."

The ground rose a little and became rougher. The lights from the Indian
fires had sunk almost out of sight behind them, and a dense thicket lay
before them. Something stirred in the thicket, and the eyes of Shif'less
Sol caught a glimpse of a human shoulder. His heart sank like a plummet
in a pool. The Indians were ahead of them. They would be caught, and
would be carried back to become the victims of the terrible tomahawk.

The figure in the bushes rose a little higher, the muzzle of a rifle was
projected, and flame leaped from the steel tube.

But it was neither Shif'less Sol nor Paul who fell. They heard a cry
behind them, and when Shif'less Sol took a hasty glance backward he saw
one of the Mohawks fall. The three who were left hesitated and stopped.
When a second shot was fired from the bushes and another Mohawk went
down, the remaining two fled.

Shif'less Sol understood now, and he rushed into the bushes, dragging
Paul after him. Henry, Tom, and Long Jim rose up to receive them.

"So you wuz watchin' over us!" exclaimed the shiftless one joyously. "It
wuz you that clipped off the first Mohawk, an' we didn't even notice the
shot."

"Thank God, you were here!" exclaimed Paul. "You don't know what Sol and
I have seen!"

Overwrought, he fell forward, but his comrades caught him.

CHAPTER XI. THE MELANCHOLY FLIGHT

Paul revived in a few minutes.