"Rattlesnake of a Winnebago! Die the death of the rattlesnake!"
The wretch was given no time to protest again, for the words were yet in the mouth of Deerfoot when the flash of his rifle lit up the partial gloom, and the crack of the weapon mingled with the death shriek of the redskin, who slumped end over end down the ravine and lay beside the body of Wau-ko-mia-tan as dead as he.
"Thus shall die all that seek to follow your footsteps," muttered the Shawanoe, who, standing where he stood when he slew both, proceeded to reload his rifle with as much coolness as though he had just fired at a target on a tree.
This finished, he let himself over the edge of the ravine, holding fast a moment by one hand, and then letting go, dropped lightly beside the two bodies that lay below. His face showed no excitement now, and he moved with his usual care and deliberation. Drawing the hunting-knife which he had taken from the Wolf, he partly bent over, but straightened up again, saying to himself:
"Deerfoot is a Christian Indian and can not scalp a foe though as base as they."
Picking up each rifle (that of Wau-ko-mia-tan being still clutched by his nerveless fingers while the Wolf's had fallen from his grasp), he deliberately broke the locks of each by striking them on the stones. He then recovered his own tomahawk, and carried off the useless weapons with him.
He passed down the ravine until he reached a point where the sides were not so high. There he clambered out, still keeping the two broken guns. He had reached high ground on the side from which had come the Winnebagos, and he walked grimly forward, until in a brief while he reached the main trail over which he and the boys had passed a brief while before.
He turned toward the left, which led him in the direction of the camp of the Ozarks as well as toward the camp of Black Bear and his Winnebagos. He took longer steps than usual, but did not trot or run.
When he once more caught the glimmer of the camp-fire among the trees, he slackened his pace and drew nigh with the caution that had become a second nature to him. He quickly saw that the Winnebagos had disposed of themselves for the night. The fire was burning as brightly as ever, because of the attention it received from the two warriors who were standing on guard.
The party were in a portion of the country where they knew there was scarcely a possibility of their being molested by any one; but the American Indian loves nothing like laziness and war; and, treacherous by nature himself, he expects treachery at all times in others. And so, although they knew of no enemies within miles of them (unless it was Deerfoot, whom they did not fear) they had two vigilant sentinels on duty. The rest were stretched out on their blankets with their feet turned toward the blaze, sleeping like so many tired animals.