The exclamation, and the sight of Ralph himself, who also rose to follow the young leader upon what he deemed a rush against the foe, electrified the whole body of the Regulators, who were immediately thrown into confusion; of which the savages took the same advantage they had taken of Bruce’s agitation, firing upon them as they rose, and then rushing upon them to end the fray, before they could recover their wits or spirits.  It needed but this, and the fall of their leader, to render the disorder of the young men irretrievable; and, accordingly, in less than a moment they were seen,—­all, at least, who were not already disabled,—­flying in a panic from the field of battle.  It was in vain that the captain of horse-thieves, divining at last the cause of their extraordinary flight, roared out that he was a living man, with nothing of a ghost about him whatever; the panic was universal and irremediable, and nothing remained for him to do but to save his own life as quickly as possible.

“’Tarnal death to me!” he bellowed, turning to fly; but a groan from Bruce fell on his ear.  He ran to the side of the fallen youth, and catching him by the hand, exclaimed, “Now for the best leg, Tom, and a rush up hill to the bosses!”

“You ar’n’t hanged then, after all?” muttered the junior; and then fell back as if unable to rise, adding faintly, “Go;—­rat it, I’m done for.—­As for the—­’l—­savages, what I have to say—­’l—­’l—.  But I reckon scalping’s not much;—­’l—­’l—­one soon gets used to it!”—­

And thus the young Kentuckian, his blood oozing-fast, his mind wandering, his utterance failing, muttered, resigning himself to his fate, ignorant that even Stackpole was no longer at his side to hear him.  His fate did indeed seem to be inevitable; for while Stackpole had him by the hand, vainly tugging to get him on his feet, three different Indians were seen running with might and main to quench the last spark of his existence, and to finish Stackpole at the same time.  But in that very emergency, the ill-luck which seemed to pursue the horse-thief, and all with whom he was associated, found a change; and destiny sent them doth assistance in a way and by means as unexpected as they were unhoped for.  The approach of the savages was noticed by Roaring Ralph, who, not knowing how to save his young executioner, against whom he seemed to entertain no feelings of anger whatever, and whose approaching fate he appeared well disposed to revenge beforehand, clapped his rifle to his shoulder, to make sure of one of the number; when his eye was attracted by the spectacle of a horse rushing up the stony road, neighing furiously, and scattering the Indians from before him.  It was the charger Briareus, who had broken from the tree where he had been fastened below, and now came dashing up the hill, distracted with terror, or perhaps burning to mingle in the battle, which he had heard and snuffed from afar.  He galloped by the three Indians, who leaped aside in alarm, while Stackpole, taking advantage of the moment, ran up and seized him by the bridle.  In another moment, he had assisted the fainting Kentuckian upon the animal’s back, leaped up behind him, and was dashing with wild speed up the hill, yelling with triumph, and laughing to scorn the bullets that were shot vainly after.