But this was not the moment for discussing the pros and cons of dog whips, nor the prowess of the men who wield them; for the enemy were on the move. It seemed almost as if they had made up their minds to ignore all thoughts of danger; or perhaps they imagined that Hank had led his two comrades steadily forward, and was not lying beneath the trees beyond the open space waiting with loaded rifles for them. In any case, the drivers sent their whips cracking over their teams, while the dogs responded by leaping into their harness and speeding away from the irregular line of the forest. At the same moment the four men on foot, who were shod with snowshoes, shot out from the cover and, dividing till a wide interval separated each man, came speeding across the snow.
"Beaver Jack takes 'em to right," said Hank steadily, not a waver in his voice. "I take the critters in the centre; Joe pays partic'lar attention to the varmint on the left. Fire as you get 'em in line with your sights."
A spurt of flame issued from his own muzzle a second or so later, Joe peering out across the snow to see what effect the bullet had; and once more he was witness of the effect of a missile striking a glancing blow on the snowfield. A cloud of white particles suddenly leaped up in front of the foremost sleigh, hiding the men aboard it, while a shout came from the enemy.
"Missed 'em by a pip," observed Hank, ramming in a fresh cartridge. "You, Joe."
Our hero lined his sights on the second sleigh, followed the moving object for a moment, then pressed his trigger; and all the while as he aimed he was wondering at his own coolness. He might indeed have been firing at inanimate objects. The idea that he was aiming at living men hardly seemed to trouble him in the slightest, while if he had any qualms at the thought that his bullet might slay a fellow being, he never showed them.
"It's they or us," he repeated for the tenth time at least. "They've made an unprovoked attack, and must put up with the consequences."
Bang! His own weapon spat forth a bullet, while a cloud of white smoke belched from the muzzle, to die away at once. All eyes went toward the sleigh he had aimed at, and once again the tell-tale spray of snow showed exactly where the missile had landed, and precisely by how much it had missed the enemy.