command he leveled it at the leader of the party, he who had killed one of the soldiers. Captain Moore's aim was true, and the Indian fell lifeless over the very body of the man he had slain.
By this time the other Indians were coming up, and all the soldiers could do was to take to the nearest cover, as the captain had ordered. The warwhoops continued, and shots were fired from several directions.
Scarcely knowing whether he was hit or not, Captain Moore dashed into the midst of some brushwood, and not far away from him; came Peck. The latter had broken his rifle over the head of one of the red men, and now advanced with the hunting-knife which was still in his possession. The young captain held a rifle, but just now had no time in which to reload the weapon.
"They are after us hot-like!" cried Peck, after several hundred feet had been covered.
The private's breath came short and sharp, and now for the first Captain Moore saw how he was suffering.
"You are wounded, Peck."
"That's right, captain."
"You can't run any more."
"I've got to run," muttered Peck, between his set teeth. "They'll be on—oh!—on us in another minute."
