"I broke the Indian's arm as he was on the point of striking." "Thet wuz ther only mistake yer made. You oughter broke his head, an' thar'd bin one less. They're arter us hot foot, an it's a race fer life now." CHAPTER XXXIV. IN SAND CAVE. Behind them the enraged Blackfeet began shooting, and the bullets whistled over the heads of the fugitives. "I pray none of those hits little Fairy," panted Frank. "Ef we could strike some kind o' cover an' hed a minute to spar', we'd be able ter stan' ther varmints off," came from Old Rocks. "My rifle is empty." "I ain't got mine, an' I'll allow my small guns are empty; but I kin load 'em as we run." "We may have to fight anyhow." "Right, boy. Ef we do, dog my cats ef we don't make some o' them onery skunks gaul derned sick!" Still running, Old Rocks snapped the empty shells from his revolvers, and replaced them with fresh cartridges. At times it was not easy to keep track of the Hermit, who ran through the night with the speed of a deer and the tirelessness of a hound. Now and then the frightened child cried out, and this aided Frank and the old guide in following. Rocks soon replenished his revolvers, and said: "Thar, I kinder 'lows we kin make it interestin' fer them varmints ef they press us too hard. Dunno ez I kin find ther place whar I hid my rifle, but I reckons I oughter." "If we escape." "Ef we escape! Whut's ther matter with you, boy? Think we can't dodge them red whelps in ther dark?" "We might alone; but the man ahead of us may make no attempt to do so, and we must stand by him. It would not do to let the child fall into the hands of those wretches again. They would surely murder her." "They'd be likely ter, an' that's facts. Oh, we'll back up ther Hermit, an' thar won't be no trouble 'bout gittin' erway, 'less them varmints behind manages ter hit one o' us with a lead pill." The flight and pursuit continued, the Blackfeet seeming to have the eyes of owls or the scent of hounds. They pressed the fugitives hard, and Old Rocks feared that some of the flying bullets which whistled around them would find a mark. At length the guide gave an exclamation of satisfaction. "Reckon I knows whar ther Hermit is headin' fer," he said. "Where?" asked Frank. "Straight fer Sand Cave." "Where is Sand Cave?" "Not very fur ahead. Thar is some bowlders at ther mouth o' ther cave, and we oughter be able ter stand ther red niggers off thar." "Are you sure the Hermit is going there?" "I ain't sure, but it looks thet way. It ain't likely he kin keep up this pace much farther, an' kerry ther child." However, Old Rocks feared the man ahead might not be making for Sand Cave, and so he called to the Hermit, asking him if he knew where to find the cave. The Hermit replied that he did, and Rocks urged him to go there. "Git in with ther gal--git in out o' ther way o' bullets," advised the old guide. "Ther boy an' me will stand ther red dogs off all right." To this the Hermit agreed.