Simultaneously several rifles were discharged, and Oonomoo, who had thrown himself in the rear of Fluellina upon the appearance of danger, knew by the sharp, needle-like twinges in different parts of his body, that he was severely wounded.

Flight was useless, and as he and his wife took shelter behind separate trees, he called to his son: "Niniotan, prove yourself a warrior, the son of Oonomoo, the Huron!" As quick as lightning, the youth was also sheltered, and his gun discharged.

A death-shriek from a howling Shawnee showed that the training of Oonomoo had not been thrown away.

The boy reloaded and waited his opportunity.
The Shawnees, seeing they had driven their foe to the wall at last, prudently halted, as they were in no hurry to engage such a terrible being in a hand-to-hand contest, overwhelming as were their own odds.
The Huron wisely held his fire, believing he could keep his enemies at bay much better by such means than by discharging it.

The great point with him was to defer the attack until the arrival of assistance, and he had strong hopes that he could succeed in doing it.
Not Oonomoo's personal fear, but his excessive anxiety for the safety of Fluellina, induced him now to adopt a resort that was fatal in its consequences.