The Death-Dealer had struck his first blow strong and well.
Stepping over the body of the lifeless savage, the scout aimed a blow at the next who lay beside him.
His aim was as true as the other had been, and the spirit of the savage followed that of his companion to the happy hunting-grounds of his tribe.
Still not one of the warriors stirred. Buried in deep sleep they lay unconscious of the presence of their terrible enemy.
Another blow descended, and another savage went the way of his dead companions.
Three had fallen, while the remaining four still lay unconscious of their fate.
Once more the knife descended to its deadly work and another savage was numbered with the slain.
At that moment from some cause or another, a bright flame shot up from the smoldering embers, illuminating the scene about it.
It did not have the effect of awakening the surviving savages, but the next moment a voice exclaimed, in startling tones:
“Jerusalem and the Prophets! What in nater is going on here, I’d like to know!”