"Steady, Hubert. Jump off. Pick up papa's pistol. Arrange the horses in a triangle round him. That's right. Now don't throw away a shot." The nearest Indian was scarcely thirty yards off when Charley's bullet crashed into his brain. The three immediately following him fell in rapid succession, another chief's arm sank useless to his side, while the horse of another fell, shot through the brain. Both the boys were pale, but their hands were as steady as iron. They felt as if, with their father lying insensible under their protection, they could not miss. So terrible was the destruction which the continued fire wrought among the leaders that the others instinctively checked the speed of their horses as they approached the little group, from which fire and balls seemed to stream, and began to discharge arrows at the boys, hanging on the other side of their horses, so that by their foes they could not be seen, a favorite maneuver with the Indians. As the boys fired their last barrels they drew their revolvers from the holsters, and, taking aim as the Indians showed a head or an arm under their horses' necks or over their backs, their twelve barrels added to the Indians scattered over the ground. "Now, Hubert, give me the two last revolvers, and put the two fresh chambers into the carbines." Seeing only one of their foes on the defense, the Indians again made a rush forward. Charley shot the two first with a revolver, but the others charged up, and he stooped a moment to avoid a spear, rising a little on one side, and discharging with both hands his pistols at the Indians, who were now close. "Quick, Hubert," he said, as he shot with his last barrel an Indian who had just driven his spear into the heart of Mr. Hardy's horse. The animal fell dead as it stood, and the Indians with a yell charged at the opening, but as they did so Hubert slipped a carbine into his brother's hand, and the two again poured in the deadly fire which had so checked the Indians' advance. The continuation of the fire appalled the Indians, and the seven that survived turned and fled. "I will load, Hubert," Charley said, trying to speak steadily. "See to papa at once. Empty one of the water-gourds upon his face and head." Hubert looked down with a cold shudder. Neither of the boys had dared to think during that brief fight. They had had many falls before on the soft turf of the pampas, but no hurt had resulted, and both were more frightened at the insensibility of their father than at the Indian horde which were so short a distance away, and which would no doubt return in a few minutes in overwhelming force. Great, then, was Hubert's delight, when upon looking round he saw that Mr. Hardy had raised himself with his arms. "What has happened?" he said in a confused manner. "Are you hurt, papa?" Hubert asked, with tears of joy running down his face; "you frightened us both so dreadfully. Please drink a little water, and I will pour a little over your face."