Again was that wild yell renewed, but in a moment all was silent. Guthrie ashamed, became angry, and turned with a fierce scowl on Ichabod.
"You havn't a very civil way to strangers, friend," said he, "and we may find time to settle this business. You may bully Injins, but you won't me."
"I've just did my duty on that red varmint there," answered Ichabod coolly; "and all I've got to say, friend, is, that we've got enemies enough out-doors to attend to, without any civil war inside; but I ain't particular."
"Ichabod! Guthrie!" exclaimed Barton, "let there be no ill-blood between you now; the mistake of Guthrie might easily have been made by any one, however experienced."
Guthrie turned again towards the loop-hole, muttering indistinctly. As for Ichabod, he quietly reloaded his rifle saying:
"That's right, Squire, I'm a man of peace, any way—except with them infarnal Senecas. If I have any particular gift of which I can boast, it is in another sort of speculation. Give it to 'em Eagle's-Wing!" said he, as at this moment, he saw the Tuscarora about discharging his rifle. At the discharge, the whole ravine seemed to pour out a tempest of shrieks.
"That Injin," said Eagle's-Wing, "won't fight any more—great pity lose his scalp though."
"Never mind the scalp, Eagle's-Wing," replied Ichabod, "if you fix the owner, so that he won't have any more use for it; that's my doctrine."
"That bad doctrine for Injin—good doctrine for pale-face p'raps."
Notwithstanding the utmost watchfulness, on the part of the besieged, no further demonstration was made by the Senecas, for nearly an hour; until, at length, they began to hope that the contest might already be terminated, and that the loss of three of their warriors, without having been able to inflict any injury upon the garrison, had discouraged the Indians. As time passed by, no further attack being made, even Ichabod and the Tuscarora began to yield to the belief which Barton had expressed, but they did not for a moment relax their watchfulness.