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She turned again to Mustafa Ali to suggest that they had better try to move on, but he had gone further from her, back towards his own. She wrestled with her nervous mount, trying to turn him to join her guide, when a sudden burst of rifle shots made her start and her horse bound violently. Then she laughed.
He had killed a buffalo, tied the best of the meat upon his horse, and was trudging for camp, when four Indians surprised him. For a few moments he worked fast, to defend himself, untie the meat, mount his horse and escape. But the thongs were stiff with the cold. He, too, was stiff, and his fingers grew numb. He sprang behind a tree, his rifle ready, but saw himself surrounded.
"Then if the mountain won't come to Mahomet, Mahomet must go to the mountain." "What that?" asked the Indian. "We will cross the river," said Ainley. "We will go look for him." "Good!" said the Indian. Five minutes later they were afloat once more, and in a few minutes had landed on the further side. "You stop here with the canoe, Joe," said Ainley picking up his rifle.
"The Boches are a good distance away at this point," he said. "They are in the next woods." A broad stretch of snow lay between the two clumps of woods. It was not worth while for either side to try to get possession of the intervening space. At the first movement by either French or Germans the woods opposite would hum with rifle fire and echo with cannonading.
Only three days before my visit Greene's nearest brother warden on duty at the Alligator Bay Colony had a desperate rifle battle with four poachers who, in defiance of law and decency, attempted to shoot the Egrets which he was paid to protect.
"I think they're safe, now, till nightfall. The Injuns won't care about putting themselves within range of that 'ere rifle again." Gradually the fire of the Indians ceased, and the defenders were able to leave the loop-holes. Two of the men went down and fastened up the cattle, which were still standing loose in the yard inside the stockade; the other set to to prepare a meal, for Mrs.
Clubbing his rifle, he struck down one officer who tried to detain him; but another officer, quicker than he, put a revolver bullet through his head. Westerling, who had buried his face in his hands in Marta's presence at the thought of failure, must keep the pose of his position before the staff.
George started as he saw that she had roughly indicated the figure of a man lying upon the little mound with a rifle in his hand. It struck him that she was right. "It's a picture," said the constable; "but why did you put that fellow yonder?" "Come and see." They followed her to the mound, and after an inspection of it, Flett nodded. "You'd make a mighty smart tracker, Miss Grant.
For a minute or so he stood and watched the boulders keenly, then he dropped his rifle with a laugh and stroked his horse's nose. "What a fool I am, Euchre! As if you wouldn't have smelt a myall long before I could even see him! Stand there, old boy, and you'll soon have a drink."
Many corps of American riflemen have been thus attired, and the dress is one of the most striking of modern times. The hunting-shirt is frequently white. The rifle of the army is short; that of the hunter is always long.
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