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the tree, trembled lest one of them should discover their property
beneath the heap of leaves. Fortunately they were too intent upon
watching their leader, and presently they moved out of sight as silently
and as quickly as they had appeared.
Their guide explained that these warriors were from beyond the
mountains, and were no doubt out after scalps from an enemy village in
the next valley. Till the battle was over, it would not be safe
to leave their retreat, he said, so he climbed down and
collected food and drink from their covered hole.
Presently above the voice of the river, they heard the warcries and a mighty whooping and screaming, which continued
presistently throughout the day. The Indian said it must have
been a hard-fought
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fight, but could not judge which side had been the victors. At last the
sun went down behind the mountains. The twilight was short, and dusk
quickly gave place to a black night. “Mountain Cat” then decided to spy
out the situation and to see whether or not it would be safe to continue
on the trail. He would be back, he said, within the hour, and enjoined
the Englishmen on no account to leave their hiding-place. So they waited
with what patience they coul d, listening to the loud screaming of a wardance.
When the moon arose, Doctor Syn calculated that their guide had been
absent some three hours, and feared that he had been either captured or
cut off. They then discussed whether or not they could go in search of
him.
When they had waited a considerable time, and still so sign of the
Indians, they climbed down from the tree, and set off.
Now, although the village was less than a mile away, they encountered
the greatest difficulties in reaching it. In most places the undergrowth
was breath high, and when overcome, led to one of the many impetuous
mountain streams that had to be crossed upon slippery boulders, and it
was actually dawn before they crawled over a hillock in the forest and
looked down upon a clearing. It as evident that here had been the site
of the village, but all that remained was charred wrecks of smoldering
habitations. Beneath a number of blackened stakes erected in a rude
circle lay many bodies that had been fired, while in the centre of this
grim arena, was a naked Indian tied to a trunk of a tree. He was still
alive, for his limbs kept moving as he attempted to relieve the tight
agony of the biting ropes that bound him. Around the clearing were
ranked more than a hundred warriors, the very men who had passed the
canoe the day before, because the Englishman recognized their leader,
who had stood upon the rock. He was going from man to man, as though
inspecting them. From every score or so he chose one, who stepped
forward from the lin e. When the five had been selected, the Brave
signaled to the rest, who turned and walked off silently into the woods.
Syn and Mipps noted that the five were not so gaily decorated either
with feathers or war -paint as their fellows who were watching. The B rave
then advanced to the bound man, and with his knife severed the cords.
The exhausted victim collapsed for a moment on the hard, beaten earth,
but after rubbing his chafed limbs he stoop up proudly and faced the
Chief.
Having his back to the hillock where Syn and Mipps crouched, they
could not see his face, but there was something in the bearing of his
tall, gaunt frame which made them certain that this was indeed their
missing guide.
“Those five rascals are to be his executioners,” whispered Syn.
“Compared to the others, they are the but youngsters and are no doubt
about to prove their worth with blood-letting. Had the rest not gone, we
should have been hard put to it, to resuce our ‘Mountain Cat’, but this
lot we can tackle. I think the Chief will follow his men and leave the
dirty work to these cadets. If so, we shall be rid of him the easier.”
It was then that they saw the Chief advance to the victim and, with
what seemed a gesture of courtesy, hand him his own tomahawk. This
looked a heavy weapon with a bright steel blade.
“He is allowing him the right to defend himself,” whispered Syn, as
he fingered the butts of his pistols. “And I was right in my guess. I
believe he is about to follow the tribe.”
Indeed, the Chieftain had turned his back upon the prisoner and with
majestic strides walked to the five young warriors, who at the same time
began to execute fantastic steps, working themselves up into a frenzy
for killing. The Chief halted some five paces in front of them, and
raising both arms to
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the dawning sky, appeared to be blessing their prowess. He was then some
twenty paces from the armed prisoner, and still with his back to him.
It was then that they saw the man they took to be “Mountain Cat” take
two steps forward, s winging the tomahawk, and with a mighty effort hurl
it through the air. It struck the Chieftain with terrific force between
the shoulder -blades, the steel of the ax actually severing the long tail
of feathers from his head-dress. The hands, uplifted as they had been in
benediction, clawed the air convulsively, and then down he fell full
length upon his face. Bereft of his weapon, the prisoner folded his arms
and stoically awaited his death at the hands of the five. The sudden
killing of their Chief, whom they took to be dead without examination,
caused them to dance with the greater fury, and with each step they
capered nearer to his slayer.
“Now, Mipps,” said Syn. “You to his right, I to his left. Pistols and
then steel.”
“No quarter, eh?” asked Mipps as they ran.
“None,” replied Syn.
The whirling frenzy of the five did much to help the surprise attack
of the Englishmen, who were on them before they could realize that their
unarmed victim now supported. Then they rushed altogether. Syn brought
down his two flank men by firing his pistols simultaneously and
practically at point -blank range. Mipps fired his right pistol, and hit,
but did not kill, so, quickly changing over by dropping the discharged
weapon and grabbing the other with his right hand from his left, he used
the second charge upon the same attacker killing him then outright, and
hurling his pistol in the face of the next attacker, which checked him
for a second and enabled Mipps to draw his cutlass, a weapon with which
he had made himself acquainted aboard the pirate ship. With it he met
the murderous blow of the tomahawk, and ran his second man through the
stomach with the point. The middle man rushed not at Syn but at the
Indian, and had not Syn’s long blade darted in between his ribs the
Chieftains death must have been avenged. As it was, the rescued Indian
by refusing to leap back in the face of his enemies, received a bad
flesh cut in the leg as his attacker fell dead. From body to body went
Syn passing his sword through the heart of each, and crying out to Mipps
that they must get to cover quickly, lest the noise from this pistols
should bring the tribe back.
Mipps made a strange reply: “Well, I’ll be damned!” he said.
“And why?” demanded Syn, as he cleaned his blade with a handful of
dust.
Mipps scratched his head and pointed to the Indian. “Why, sir, this
‘ere ain’t Mister Pussy at all.”
Syn looked and said, “By gag you’re right! It’s not ‘Mountain Cat.’”
“‘Mountain Cat’ scalped and burned, said the Indian in English. “Me