With his heart beating like a trip-hammer, and the skin tightening on his face, Joe screened his body as best he might.

The tree was small, but it served as a partial protection.

Rapidly he revolved in his mind plans to outwit the enemy.

The Indian was behind a large oak with a low limb over which he could fire without exposing his own person to danger.
"Bang!" The Indian's rifle bellowed; the bullet crumbled the bark close to Joe's face.

The lad yelled loudly, staggered to his knees, and then fell into the path, where he lay quiet.
The redskin gave an exultant shout.