"Do not alarm yourself so," said Belhumeur; "no doubt she is in safety."
Without listening to the consolations his friend poured out, though he did not believe in them himself Loyal Heart drove the spurs into his horse's flanks, and sprang into the water.
They soon gained the opposite bank, and there all was explained.
They had before them the most awful scene that can possibly be imagined.
The village and the fort were a heap of ruins.
A black, thick, sickening smoke ascended in long wreaths towards the heavens.
In the centre of what had been the village, arose a mast against which were nailed human fragments, for which urubus were contending with loud cries.
Here and there lay bodies half devoured by wild beasts.
No living being appeared.
Nothing remained intact—everything was either broken, displaced, or overthrown. It was evident, at the first glance, that the Indians had passed there, with their sanguinary rage and their inveterate hatred of the whites. Their steps were deeply imprinted in letters of fire and blood.