CHAPTER XXV.
THE PORT OF MISSING MEN Fast they come, fast they come; See how they gather! Wide waves the eagle plume, Blended with heather.
Cast your plaids, draw your blades, Forward each man set! Pibroch of Donuil Dhu Knell for the onset! -- Sir Walter Scott.
Claiborne climbed upon a rock to get his bearings, and as he gazed off through the wood a bullet sang close to his head and he saw a man slipping away through the underbrush a hundred yards ahead of him.

He threw up his rifle and fired after the retreating figure, jerked the lever spitefully and waited.

In a few minutes Oscar rode alertly out of the wood at his left.
"It was better for us a dead horse than a dead man--yes ?" was the little sergeant's comment.

"We shall come back for the saddle and bridle." "Humph! Where do you think those men are ?" "Behind some rocks near the edge of the gap.

It is a poor position." "I'm not sure of that.