Had the men not been otherwise engaged when he dashed from his place of concealment, they would doubtless have shot him down before he reached them.  But the kettle of hot water had prevented them from bringing their revolvers to bear until too late.

Ivan descended upon them with a wild cry, and at sight of him the Bulgarians gave back.  Eight of them there were, but they recoiled as a single man from the great Cossack.

A single shot Ivan fired from his two revolvers and then they were empty.  Quickly he reversed both weapons, and holding both by the barrels, he was among the enemy, striking right and left as fast as the eye could see.

Down went a man on the left with a cracked skull.  A man on the right caught a glancing blow on the shoulder and also toppled over.  Now the remaining six scattered and sought to get a position where they could shoot Ivan down without fear of injuring one of their own number.  But Ivan prevented this by keeping close.

He at length seized one man by the neck—­dropping the revolver he held in his left hand to do so—­and held him before him as a shield.

Then he charged the others.

Ivan’s eyes shone with a terrible fire as he darted forward.  His hat was off and his long hair streamed in the wind.  Holding his human shield as he did with his strong left hand, he raised his revolver aloft in his right, gripping it tightly by the barrel.

The nearest man of the enemy failed to skip aside quickly enough and the revolver crashed down on his head with a thud.  That was the last of him.  A second, thinking to take advantage of this action, slipped upon the giant from behind and leveled his revolver at Ivan’s head.  But once more Ivan was too quick for him, and, whirling suddenly, hurled his revolver at the man.

The Cossack’s aim was true, and struck squarely in the face with the sharp revolver, the man dropped to the ground.  Now, besides the man he still held aloft, there were but three of the enemy left.  With a loud cry, they turned and ran.

But Ivan had no mind to be balked of his prey.  He still held a weapon, and he made good use of it.  The weapon was the man he had been using for a shield.  Raising him high above his head with his right arm, he hurled him forward, as a man putting the shot.

The human catapult sailed through the air and struck two of the enemy as it fell, carrying them to the ground, knocking the breath from the bodies of all three.

Ivan leaped forward quickly.  Stooping, he picked up two men, one in each hand, and brought their heads together with an audible crash.  Then he hurled one down upon the third man with great force, and stooping, picked up a revolver.

Quickly he dropped to one knee, and leveling the revolver, took careful aim at the remaining man, who was now some distance away and running swiftly.

“Crack!”

A report, a flash of flame in the darkness.