e and Henry had come together. But
the nature and power of the two men being somewhat similar, they had
singled out the same point of danger, and had made their attack with the
same overwhelming vehemence. The muscles of both seemed to be made of
iron, for, as increasing numbers pressed upon them, they appeared to
deliver their terrible blows with increasing rapidity and vigour, and
the savages, despite their numbers, began to quail before them.

Just then Keona--who, although wounded, hovered about doing as much
mischief as he could with his left hand, (which, by the way, seemed to
be almost as efficient as his right,)--caught sight of this group of
combatants on the banks of the stream. He, with a party, had succeeded
in forcing the bridge, and now, uttering a shout of wild delight at the
sight of his two greatest enemies within his power--as he thought--he
rushed towards them and darted his spear with unerring aim and terrible
violence. The man's anger defeated his purpose, for the shout attracted
the attention of Gascoyne, who saw the spear coming straight towards
Henry's breast. He interposed the shovel instantly, and the spear fell
harmless to the ground. At the same time, with a back-handed sweep he
brained a gigantic savage who at the moment was engaging Henry's
undivided attention. Bounding forward with a burst of anger, Gascoyne
sought to close with Keona. He succeeded but too well, however, for he
could not check himself sufficiently to deliver an effective blow, but
went crashing against his enemy, and the two fell to the ground
together.

In an instant a rush was made on the fallen man; but Henry leaped
forward, and sweeping down two opponents with one cut of his claymore,
afforded his companion time to leap up.

"Come, we are quits," said Henry, with a grim smile, as the two darted
again on the foe.

At that moment Ole Thorwald, having scattered the party he first
engaged, came tearing down towards the bridge, whirling the great sword
round his head, and shouting "victory" in the voice of a Stentor.

"Hah! here is more work," he cried, as his eye fell on Gascoyne's
figure. "Thorwald to the rescue! hurrah!"

In another moment the savages were flying pellmell across the bridge
with Gascoyne and Henry close on their heels, and the stout merchant
panting after them, with his victorious band, as fast as his less agile
limbs could carry him.

It was at this moment that Gascoyne and Henry noticed