is to me a
thousand times sweeter than captivity--furnish me with a rifle, and I will
show you that I can fight as well as die. This spot I leave not! here my
bones shall lie bleaching with yours! and should either of you escape, you
will carry the tidings of my death to my remaining relatives."

Remonstrance proved fruitless; the two scouts matured their plans for a
vigorous defence--opposing craft to craft, expedient to expedient, and an
unerring fire of the deadly rifle. The attack now commenced in front,
where, from the narrow backbone of the Mount, the savages had to advance
in single file, but where they could avail themselves of the rock and
trees. In advancing the warrior must be momentarily exposed, and two bare
inches of his swarthy form was target enough for the unerring rifle of the
scouts. After bravely maintaining the fight in front, and keeping the
enemy in check, they discovered a new danger threatening them. The wary
foe now made every preparation to attack them in flank, which could be
most successfully and fatally done by reaching an insulated rock lying in
one of the ravines on the southern hill side. This rock once gained by the
Indians, they could bring the scouts under point blank shot of the rifle;
and without the possibility of escape.

Our brave scouts saw the hopelessness of their situation, which nothing
could avert but brave companions and an unerring shot--them they had not.
But the brave never despair. With this certain fate resting upon them,
they had continued as calm, and as calculating, and as unwearied as the
strongest desire of vengeance on a treacherous foe could produce. Soon
M'Clelland saw a tall and swarthy figure preparing to spring from a cover
so near the fatal rock, that a single bound must reach it, and all hope be
destroyed. He felt that all depended on one advantageous shot, although
but one inch of the warrior's body was exposed, and that at a distance of
one hundred yards--he resolved to risk all--coolly he raised his rifle to
his eyes, carefully shading the sight with his hand, he drew a bead so
sure, that he felt conscious it would do--he touched the hair trigger with
his finger--the hammer came down, but in place of striking fire, it
crushed his flint into a hundred fragments! Although he felt that the
savage must reach the fatal rock before he could adjust another flint, he
proceeded to the task with the utmost composure, casting many a furtive
glance towards the fea