His clenched fist shot out like lightning, and caught the savage on the point of the jaw.
The Miami hit the earth with a thud, and lay there stunned.

Paul turned and ran with all his might, and as he ran he heard the war cry behind him, and then the pattering of feet.

But he heard no shots.

He judged that the distance and the darkness kept the savages from firing, and he thanked God for the night.
He had sufficient presence of mind to remember the stream, and he kept closely to its course as he ran back swiftly toward the canoe.
"Up, Jim, up! The warriors have come!" he shouted, as he ran.
But Jim Hart, an awkward bean pole of a lion-hearted man, was already coming to meet him, and fired past him at a dusky, dancing figure that pursued.

The death yell followed, the pursuit wavered for a moment, and then Jim Hart, turning, ran with Paul to the canoe, into which both leaped at the same time.