Cahoonshee was tied to a tree and wood piled around him, when the chief addressed him:—Thus dies the white man’s friend, once the great Cahoonshee, now a lying dog, a craven coward. Now call on the white man’s God. Now see if he will save you.
Coward I may be, but liar I am not; I told the Delawares the truth and they believed me.
What did you tell Delaware dogs?
I told them of your plan to destroy them. With all your cunning I heard your plans at the climbing tree. You destroyed my Fathers, I helped destroy your Nation. Do your worst, Salamanque; do your worst, you may have my scalp to take to your village in the place of a thousand warriors, now smoking in yonder fire. Cahoonshee has had his revenge. Kindle your fire. Roast me alive. Ha! Ha! Ha!
The exasperated chief ordered the fire kindled. At that instant, Drake gave the imitation of the tree toad, and three guns belched forth, and three dusky Indians bit the earth in death. At the same instant, the two Quicks sprang forward to release Cahoonshee. Rolla went for the fourth Indian and soon had him by the throat. Drake made for the remaining one with his knife. At the discharge of the guns the survivor seized his bow and arrows and drew it on Drake. But Drake was so close to him that the arrow flew over his head. But in so doing, he lost his knife. Then they grappled in deadly combat and struggled toward the precipice that yawned several hundred feet beneath them, each one exerting himself might and main to throw the other over and save himself. The brink is reached, and Drake hurled the Indian off, but his own momentum carried him off, and they both disappeared in the abyss below.
Saved, exclaimed Tom as he sundered the last thong that bound Cahoonshee.
Yes, but at a fearful cost. A young life has gone out to save an old wreck that nature will soon remove.
What mean you, Cahoonshee?
I mean that Drake has gone to the spirits-land. Did you not see him leap from the cliff and follow the Indian in his downward flight?