The Huron had scarcely landed, when his quick ear detected a suspicious sound.  He glanced furtively around.  Nothing, however, was seen, although his apprehensions of the proximity of his foes had assumed a certainty.  Without pausing in the least, he instantly took the back trail, Fluellina being close behind him, and Niniotan bringing up the rear.  They had gone scarce a dozen steps when the Shawnee war-whoop was heard, and full a score of the red demons sprung up seemingly from the very ground, and plunged toward the fugitives.  Simultaneously several rifles were discharged, and Oonomoo, who had thrown himself in the rear of Fluellina upon the appearance of danger, knew by the sharp, needle-like twinges in different parts of his body, that he was severely wounded.  Flight was useless, and as he and his wife took shelter behind separate trees, he called to his son:  “Niniotan, prove yourself a warrior, the son of Oonomoo, the Huron!”

As quick as lightning, the youth was also sheltered, and his gun discharged.  A death-shriek from a howling Shawnee showed that the training of Oonomoo had not been thrown away.  The boy reloaded and waited his opportunity.

The Shawnees, seeing they had driven their foe to the wall at last, prudently halted, as they were in no hurry to engage such a terrible being in a hand-to-hand contest, overwhelming as were their own odds.  The Huron wisely held his fire, believing he could keep his enemies at bay much better by such means than by discharging it.  The great point with him was to defer the attack until the arrival of assistance, and he had strong hopes that he could succeed in doing it.

Not Oonomoo’s personal fear, but his excessive anxiety for the safety of Fluellina, induced him now to adopt a resort that was fatal in its consequences.  Knowing that Captain Prescott and his men could be at no great distance, he gave utterance to a loud, prolonged whoop, which he knew some of the rangers would recognize as a call for assistance, and consequently hasten to his aid.  Unfortunately, the Shawnees also understood the meaning of the signal, and satisfied that not a moment was to be lost, they boldly left their cover and advanced to the attack.

The foremost of the approaching savages fell, shot through the heart by the rifle of young Niniotan, and almost at the same instant the one by his side had the ball of Oonomoo’s rifle sent crashing through his brain.  The Huron now sprung to the side of his wife, and drawing his knife in his left, and his tomahawk in his right hand, he stood at bay!