The two woodmen clasped hands, while the canoe floated at will in the midst of the dark stream.
They lifted Floyd and dragged him up the bank into the bushes, where Willimack and Elskwatawa stood. He had been stunned at first by the stroke of the hatchet and was still dizzy and faint when he faced the chiefs. Their dark looks convinced him that he had little to hope from them. The death-wail was rising from the Indian band as they lifted the bodies of the fallen and laid them in a row along the bank. Four were dead, including the neighbor of the Yankee in the tree-top, and as many more desperately wounded. In such a melée as this, when a body of men assail a desperate athlete like the dreaded Long Man, some must get hurt. The cloud upon the face of the Prophet grew darker as, one by one, the dead were brought out, and Willimack uttered a snarl like a tiger as a man who had been his best friend was laid with the rest.
"It is finished then," thought Floyd. "They will revenge themselves upon me for the death of these men. I can only meet my fate like a man; but my poor father, my darling Madge! Oh, if the Skeleton Scout would but come now and scatter these fiendish knaves as he did at the stockade! I wonder if Yankee Seth or the chief were injured? Even if they are safe, what can they do against so many?"
At this moment the panther-call of which Seth had spoken came from the opposite bank of the stream. A faint hope came into the heart of the prisoner. The call was given to show that he was safe and would not desert him in the hour of need. Willimack advanced and looked in the face of Floyd with that vicious glance of triumph which small natures feel in the power they may gain over an enemy.
"Floyd," said he, "the white man can not have all his own way. To-night I was insulted in your wigwam—I, a chief of a great nation. I told you then that a chief never forgot, and that the day of revenge would come; behold it is here already!"
"Do not trouble me by too much talking, Willimack. I am in your power, it is true, but for all that you shall not force me to cringe to you, or to ask mercy at your hands."
"Waugh! Will you not beg for life from the Wyandot and Shawnee?"
"No."