and by their savage attack and renewed shouts made the hubbub and
confusion tenfold worse.

Somebody ran so violently against Ben that he was thrown to the
ground. He was on his feet in an instant and turned to see who did
it. It was a soldier fleeing for life from an Iroquois warrior.

Ben raised his gun, took quick aim and pulled the trigger, but no
report followed. He had forgotten his weapon was unloaded.

Other forms obtruded between him and the couple, and he could not
see the result of the pursuit and attack. Despite all he could do,
he was forced back by the panic stricken rush around and against
him.

Suddenly a wild cry reached him. An Iroquois with painted face
rushed upon him with uplifted tomahawk, but he was yet several paces
away, when another warrior seized his arm and wrenched him to one
side.

"Run--go fast--don't stay!" commanded the Indian that had
saved the youth, furiously motioning to him.

"If my gun were loaded," replied Ben, though his voice was unheard
in the din, "I wouldn't go till I did something more. Helloa! is
that you, Omas?"

It was the Delaware that had turned the assault aside.

A couple of bounds placed him beside he lad, and he caught his arm