“No, no, not yet!” shouted Black Panther.
Then a streak of fire flashed through the night, and fell into the village. It was a fire-arrow. The boys were ordered to the tops of the lodges. A moment afterward the great Iroquois war-party rushed upon the camp. They had approached close up to the barricades before the Delawares discovered them. Then at the proper signal they rose, and grappled with them. The Delawares fought desperately, but they were hopelessly outnumbered, and it seemed to be only a matter of moments before the Iroquois would force their way into the camp.
“Light the fires! Light the fires!” screamed the Delawares.
This time Black Panther realized the necessity for it. Then as the flames roared through the piles of dry brush, and flooded the village with light, he saw the Iroquois at the edge of the camp. They were fighting recklessly to gain a foothold in the village, but the Delawares were attacking them like a swarm of angry bees. Onondagas, Oneidas and Mohawks had combined, and Standing Wolf himself was leading them. For a time the Delawares held them off, but the odds against them were too great, and the Iroquois eventually fought their way into the camp.
For an instant the Delawares faltered. Then they rallied about their gallant war-chief and fought with the fury of despair. They had gathered in force at one end of the camp, and the Iroquois were unable to dislodge them. The Delawares knew that if they were scattered and driven from the village they would be surrounded and annihilated. Therefore, they determined to stand together until the end.
Running Fox was in a frenzy of despair. He realized that he alone was to blame for the plight of his tribesmen, and the thought drove him to distraction. It seemed as if his perilous journey to the Mohawk camp had been in vain. The mysterious Medicine Creatures had apparently deceived him. The sacred medicine-trophy for which he had risked his life seemed powerless against the famous Mohawk war-chief. Getanittowit appeared to have turned against him. Instead of aiding his people, the distracted lad believed that he had brought about their destruction. He had fought with a recklessness that had astounded both his tribesmen and their foes, and still it seemed to have been in vain. Running Fox was beside himself with grief. In the midst of the desperate encounter be raised his arms toward the sky and called upon Getanittowit to help him. “O Getanittowit, see what has happened to me. O Getanittowit, give me power to help my people. O Getanittowit, send the powerful Medicine Creatures to aid me,” he shouted excitedly.
Then a loud mocking laugh rose above the sounds of battle. Running Fox did not need to look. He knew instinctively that it came from Standing Wolf. A moment afterward he saw him fighting recklessly at the head of his warriors. As usual be seemed to bear a charmed life. His tribesmen were dropping on both sides of him, but as yet he was unharmed.
“See, we cannot harm that man!” the Delawares told one another in superstitious awe. “It is useless to fight him. He will kill us all!”
“No! No! He cannot harm you, for I am going to kill him!” Running Fox cried, hysterically. “See, I have the skin of Gokhos, the great white Medicine Owl. My brothers, I have taken away the power from Standing Wolf. I have just found out about it. Now you will see something. I am going to kill that man. I am going to bring our brothers, the Minsi. Pretty soon you will hear them. Now you must watch me.”
The next moment he bounded past his astonished tribesmen, and advanced fearlessly upon the Mohawk chief. The latter shot an arrow at him, but it flew harmlessly past his head. Then, as Running Fox laughed and pointed to the medicine-trophy which hung upon his breast, Standing Wolf uttered a yell of rage and rushed forward, war-club in hand. Before he had taken two strides Running Fox drove an arrow through his heart.