While they
were looking, a woman, somewhat younger in appearance than any of those
who sat by the fire, came out of the cave carrying a strong club about
three feet long. She crouched down close to the man standing on the
left-side of the passage, who, as well as his companion, stood as still
as a marble statue, and in an expectant attitude.
Whitson and Langley, with their revolvers drawn, suddenly stepped out
of their concealment, and walked toward the fire. This evidently
disconcerted the men with the thongs, who apparently did not expect
their intended prey to approach by any course except the passage near
which they were standing; but after a slight pause of hesitancy the
thongs were whirling in the air, and descending, lasso-fashion, upon
the shoulders of the intruders. The noose caught Langley over his
arms, which were instantly drawn close against his body as the thong
tightened, so he was thus rendered completely powerless; but Whitson
sprang, quick as lightning, to one side, and escaped. Three shots
from his revolver rang out in as many seconds, and the two men and the
woman--who was in the act of lifting her club to brain Langley--lay
rolling on the ground, each with a bullet through the head.
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