"Surrender, eh? That's the way I surrender!"
And, to the terror of the red man, he found the muzzle of a pistol placed against his nose.
"Ugh! no shoot—me good Injun—ugh! Good Yengese!"
And the valiant fellow, ducking his head, and dodging from side to side, like the Digger Indians of California, in the vain effort to distract the aim of his enemy, went threshing through the wood without any regard to noise or dignity.
Lieutenant Godfrey could have stopped his career without trouble, merely by pressing the trigger; but he did not do so. He was a civilized soldier.
"Go in peace," laughed Fred, putting his weapon away. "Heaven knows I do not wish to take human life!"
As the youth had now reached a point where he could feel safe from his pursuers, he proceeded to reload his rifle.
In the darkness it required care, and was a task compared to which that of breech-loading of to-day is nothing. The few beams of moonlight that had disclosed him and the Seneca to each other helped him to pour out the powder from the horn around his waist, and to adjust the quantity in the pan of his flintlock.
"If I continue this picking off of warriors, one at a time," muttered Fred, "I will be able to thin them out before morning."
He was reminded of the delicacy of his position, by hearing low whistling on his right.