“That’s a purty question to ax Pete Johnson. Thought you knowed better, Tom, than that. Ef Pete didn’t raise thar har bootyful then smash me.”
“Eh! fix ’em did, Pete? Good!” added the savage approaching still closer.
The two were now within ten yards of each other. Kingman feared a discovery each moment.
“Would you like to shoot a white, Tom?”
“Eh? wouldn’t Tom serve him so quick!” replied the savage, again going through the motions of scalping in the air.
“Wal, just look ’cross the river. Don’t you think there is something there that looks suspicious?”
The unsuspecting Indian turned and gazed in the direction indicated. At the same moment he heard the click of Kingman’s rifle.
As he turned his alarmed gaze around he received the bullet full in the heart, and with a wild yell sprang several feet in the air.
The savage saw at once the treachery which had been practised upon him, and in his death-struggle, as he was, he hurled his tomahawk with tremendous force at Kingman.
So truly was it aimed, that a mere accident may be said to have saved his life.