He cast one glance over his shoulder, and set a pace which came near to foundering me.
We got what we wanted earlier than we had hoped.

The woods in front rose in a high bluff, and down a little ravine a burn trickled.

The sides were too steep and matted for horses to travel, and he who stood in the ravine had his back and flanks defended.
"Now for a fight, Andrew lad," cried Ringan, his eyes dancing.

"Stick you to the pistols, and I'll show them something in the way of sword-play." The Indians wheeled up to the edge of the ravine, and I saw to my joy that they did not carry bows.
One had a musket, but it looked as if he had no powder left, for it swung idly on his back.

They had tomahawks at their belts and long shining knives with deerhorn handles.