The poor fellows’ triumph and friendly exultation lasted but a moment; the words were scarce out of Robinson’s mouth when to his surprise George started from him, turned very pale, but at the same time lifted his iron-shod stick high in the air and clinched his teeth with desperate resolution.  Four men with shaggy beards and wild faces and murderous eyes were literally upon them, each with a long glittering knife raised in the air.

At that fearful moment George learned the value of a friend that had seen adventure and crime; rapid and fierce and unexpected as the attack was, Robinson was not caught off his guard.  His hand went like lightning into his bosom, and the assailants, in the very act of striking, were met in the face by the long glistening barrels of a rifle revolver, while the cool, wicked eye behind it showed them nothing was to be hoped in that quarter from flurry, or haste, or indecision.

The two men nearest the revolver started back, the other two neither recoiled nor advanced, but merely hung fire.  George made a movement to throw himself upon them; but Robinson seized him fiercely by the arm—­he said steadily but sternly, “Keep cool, young man—­no running among their knives while they are four.  Strike across me and I shall guard you till we have thinned.”

“Will you?” said Black Will, “here, pals!” The four assailants came together like a fan for a moment and took a whisper from their leader.  They then spread out like a fan and began to encircle their antagonists, so as to attack on both sides at once.

“Back to the water, George,” cried Robinson quickly, “to the broad part here.”  Robinson calculated that the stream would protect his rear, and that safe he was content to wait and profit by the slightest error of his numerous assailants; this, however, was to a certain degree a miscalculation, for the huge ruffian we have called Jem sprang boldly across the stream higher up and prepared to attack the men behind, the moment they should be engaged with his comrades.  The others no sooner saw him in position than they rushed desperately upon George and Robinson in the form of a crescent, and as they came on Jem came flying knife in hand to plunge it into Robinson’s back.  As the front assailants neared them, true to his promise, Robinson fired across George, and the outside man received a bullet in his shoulder-blade, and turning round like a top fell upon his knees.  Unluckily George wasted a blow at this man which sung idly over him, he dropping his head and losing his knife and his powers at the very moment.  By this means Robinson, the moment he had fired his pistol, had no less than three assailants; one of these George struck behind the neck so furiously with a back-handed stroke of his iron-shod stick that he fell senseless at Robinson’s feet.  The other, met in front by the revolver, recoiled, but kept Robinson at bay while Jem sprang on him from the rear.  This attack was the most dangerous of