At this moment Middleton and Paul who had led the females to a little thicket, appeared again on the margin of the stream, menacing their enemies with the rifle.
"Mount, mount," shouted the trapper, the instant he beheld them; "mount and fly, if you value those who lean on you for help.

Mount, and leave us in the hands of the Lord." "Stoop your head, old trapper," returned the voice of Paul, "down with ye both into your nest.

The Teton devil is in your line; down with your heads and make way for a Kentucky bullet." The old man turned his head, and saw that the eager Mahtoree, who preceded his party some distance, had brought himself nearly in a line with the bark and the bee-hunter, who stood perfectly ready to execute his hostile threat.

Bending his body low, the rifle was discharged, and the swift lead whizzed harmlessly past him, on its more distant errand.
But the eye of the Teton chief was not less quick and certain than that of his enemy.

He threw himself from his horse the moment preceding the report, and sunk into the water.