A second shot from the sea--a storm of cheering voices from out of that white chaos of mist--and the Mormons fell back from the shore in a panic-stricken, fleeing mob.

Were those frightened cowards the fierce fighters of whom he had heard so much?
Were they the men who had made themselves masters of a kingdom in the land of their enemies--whose mere name carried terror for a hundred miles along the coast?
He was stupefied, bewildered.

He made no effort to conceal himself as they approached the hill, but drew his pistol, ready to fire down upon them as they came.

Suddenly there was a change.

So quickly that he could scarcely believe his eyes the flying Mormons had disappeared.