Black-deer gave a sarcastic smile, and drew his scalping knife.
"Monkey-face is a traitor," he said in a sullen voice "he has sold his brothers to the Palefaces; he is about to die."
Black-deer was not only a renowned warrior, but his wisdom and honour were held in just repute by the tribe; hence no one protested against the accusation he had made, the more so, because, unfortunately for him, Monkey-face had been long known.
Black-deer raised his knife, whose bluish blade flashed in the fire-light, but by a supreme effort Monkey-face succeeded in freeing himself, bounded like a wild beast, and disappeared in the bushes with a hoarse laugh.
The knife had slipped, and only cut the flesh, without inflicting a serious wound on the clever Indian.
There was a moment of stupor, but then all rose simultaneously to rush in pursuit of the fugitive.
"Stay," Tranquil shouted in a loud voice, "it is now too late. Make haste to attack the Palefaces before that villain has warned them, for he is doubtless meditating fresh treachery."
The Chiefs recognized the justice of this, advice, and the Indians prepared for the combat.