Before his intention was suspected, he swiftly raised the tomahawk in his right hand, high above his head and brought it down on the skull of the white murderer.
With a stifled cry that ended in a sickening groan, Lobb sunk to the ground, and the Indian strode haughtily into the open air, still clutching the blood-stained hatchet.
CHAPTER XXV—FAREWELL FOREVE
The killing of Lobb was as nothing to the Delawares in comparison to the words Lone-Elk had spoken, and the greatest confusion followed his sudden departure. Many Indians and two of the woodsmen rushed out as if to seize the Seneca, but he was gone. For an instant they caught sight of him among the trees, walking rapidly away, with head erect and shoulders squared. Not once did he look back.
Why no one went in pursuit of Lone-Elk might be hard to explain; but certain it is that neither Indian nor white man so much as called after him. Perhaps what was every one’s business was no one’s business. At any rate the Seneca went his way unmolested, and those who had hurried out after him soon returned to the Council House where, between them, Captain Pipe and Kingdom had succeeded in restoring quiet—the former by ordering the Delawares to be silent; the latter by cautioning his friends to beep cool.
Sergeant Quayle had sought to lift the unfortunate Lobb up the moment he fell, but found his task useless. The murderer was dead, and no wonder, for the gaping wound in his head was both wide and deep.
Quayle still knelt over the lifeless body when the confusion had subsided; but seeing with what horror even the savages regarded the dead man’s fallen jaw and staring eyes, truly a most terrible sight, he covered the corpse with his coat.
An embarrassing silence followed the noise and commotion the tragedy had occasioned, and for a few seconds the quiet was dreadful. The Indians were in no good humor. The woodsmen were ripe and ready for trouble and Kingdom understood only too well the gravity of the situation. But he grappled with it boldly and successfully.
“Captain Pipe,” he said, with quiet dignity, “A murder has been committed. A white man has been killed while under the flag of truce. It is not enough to say that he deserved his death. Of course we realize that the Delawares are not exactly to blame. Still we have all learned how Big Buffalo died and we have seen the murderer punished. Now will the Delawares not agree that they no longer have a reason for holding Little Paleface a prisoner?”
“Like the Delawares have the young Paleface brothers suffered for the sins of another,” Captain Pipe made answer. “They will yield the prisoner to his friends. Yet do the Delawares urge the Paleface young men to leave the lands of the Indians and, until there is peace, come back no more. They know, as the Delawares know, that it is not safe. The blood of our warriors is heated. The braves are in warpaint. For the Little Paleface and for White Fox the Delawares will have only kind thoughts. They have been good friends. The Indians have been glad to visit them and trade with them.