Such is the custom.
The captain knew this well, therefore he did not indulge in the least allusion as to the fate that awaited him if he fell into the hands of the Comanches.
He had committed the fault of allowing himself to be surprised by the redskins, and he must undergo the consequence of his imprudence.
But the captain was a good and brave soldier; certain of not being able to retreat safe and sound from the wasp's nest into which he had fallen, he wished at least, to succumb with honour.
The soldiers had no need to be excited to do their duty; they knew as well as their captain that they had no chance of safety left.
The defenders of the fort, therefore, placed themselves resolutely behind the barricades, and began to fire upon the Indians with a precision that speedily caused them a heavy loss.
The first person the captain saw, on mounting the platform of the little fort, was the old hunter, White Eyes.
"Ah, ah!" murmured the officer to himself, "what is this fellow doing here?"
Drawing a pistol from his belt, he walked straight up to the half-breed, and, seizing him by the throat, he clapped the barrel of his pistol to his breast, saying, to him with that coolness which the Americans inherit from the English, and upon which they have improved—
"In what fashion did you introduce yourself into the fort, you old screech owl?"