t log, and fetch your blue-skin with you! Quick, damn yer!
Come off that log! Another minnit, an' I'll plug ye!"

I have said that at first sight of the man I had given up all idea of
resistance, and intended to surrender at once; but there was something
so arrogant in the demand--so insulting in the tone with which the
ruffian made it--that it fired my very flesh with indignation, and
determined me to stand at bay.

Anger, at being thus hunted, new-nerved both my heart and my arm. The
brute had bayed me, and I resolved to risk resistance.

Another reason for changing my determination--I now saw that he was
_alone_. He had followed the dogs afoot, while the others on horseback
had no doubt been stopped or delayed by the bayou and morass. Had the
crowd come up, I must have yielded _nolens volens_; but the man-hunter
himself--formidable antagonist though he appeared--was still but _one_,
and to surrender tamely to a single individual, was more than my
spirit--inherited from border ancestry--could brook. There was too much
of the moss-trooper blood in my veins for that, and I resolved, _coute
que coute_, to risk the encounter.

My pistol was once more firmly grasped; and looking the ruffian full
into his bloodshot eyes, I shouted back--

"Fire at your peril! Miss and you are mine!"

The sight of my uplifted pistol caused him to quail; and I have no doubt
that had opportunity offered, he would have withdrawn from the contest.
He had expected no such a reception.

But he had gone too far to recede. His rifle was already at his
shoulder, and the next moment I saw the flash, and heard the sharp
crack. The "thud" of his bullet, too, fell upon my ear, as it struck
into the branch against which I was leaning. Good marksman as he was
reputed, the sheen of my pistols had spoiled his aim, and he had missed
me!

I did not miss _him_. He fell to the shot with a demoniac howl; and as
the smoke thinned off, I could see him writhing and scrambling in the
black mud!

I hesitated whether to give him the second barrel--for I was angry and
desired his life--but at this moment noises reached me from behind. I
heard the plunging paddle, with the sounds of a manly voice; and
turning, I beheld the Bambarra.

The latter had shot the pirogue among the tree-tops close to where we
stood, and with voice and gesture now urged us to get aboard.

"Quick, mass'. Quick, 'Rore gal! jump into de dugout! Jump in! Truss
Ole Gabe!-