Ross and Sol were firing with slow deliberate aim, and then reloading with incredible swiftness, and down the line the others were doing likewise.

Bullets were spattering into trunks and boughs, or burying themselves with a soft sigh in the salt, but Henry could not see that anybody was yet hurt.
He saw presently a dark figure passing from one tree to another and the passage was long enough for him to take a good aim at a hideously painted breast.

He pulled the trigger and then involuntarily he shut his eyes--he was a hunter, but he had never hunted men before.

When he looked again he saw a blur upon the ground, and despite himself and the fight for life, he shuddered.

Paul beside him was now in a state of wild excitement.