"Yes," John answered, "in our complete defeat; that was a splendid idea we had of capturing such a demon."
"Has he escaped, then?"
"Most perfectly so, and without a single wound, after killing at least a dozen of your warriors, and cleaving my poor Jim's skull down to the shoulders."
"Oh!" the Indian muttered hoarsely, "He is not a man, but the spirit of evil."
"Let him be what he likes," John exclaimed, energetically; "I intend to fight it out some day, for I hope to come across this demon again."
"May the Wacondah preserve my brother from such a meeting, for this demon would kill him."
"Perhaps so; as it is, if he did not do so to-day, it was no fault of his, but let him take care; we may some day stand face to face with equal weapons, and then—"
"What does he care for weapons? Did you not see that they have no power over him, and that his body is invulnerable?"
"Hum! That is possible; but for the present let us leave the subject and attend to matters that affect us much more closely. How do you find yourself?"
"Better, much better; the remedy you have applied to my wound does me great good; I am beginning to feel quite comfortable."