Henry again searched the forest in front of them, and, although he could see nothing, he was not deceived now by this appearance of silence and peace.

He knew that their foes were there, more thirsty than ever for their blood, because to the natural desire now was added the tally of revenge.
More than an hour passed, and then the forest in front of them burst into life.

Rifles were fired from many points, the sharp crack blending into one continuous ominous rattle; little puffs of white smoke arose, whistling bullets buried themselves with a sighing sound in the bags of salt, and high above all rang the fierce yell, the war whoop of the Shawnees, the last sound that many a Kentucky pioneer ever heard.
The terrible tumult, and above all, the fierce cry of the warriors sent a thrill of terror through Paul and Henry, but their disciplined minds held their bodies firm, and they remained crouched by the primitive breastwork, ready to do their part.
"Steady, everybody! Steady!" exclaimed Ross in a loud sharp voice, every syllable of which cut through the tumult.

"Don't shoot until you see something to shoot at, an' then make your aim true!" Henry now began to see through the smoke dusky figures leaping from tree to tree, but always coming toward them.

It was his impulse to fire, the moment a flitting figure appeared, gone the next instant like a shadow, but remembering Ross's caution and their terrible need he restrained himself although his finger already lay caressingly on the trigger.
Around him the rifles had begun to crack.