"This trail will not lead us to them," he whispered, "for they will have moved to one side or the other after their runner left. Let us, then, go separately to the water's edge, thou on the one side and I on the other. Whoever reaches the beach first shall utter the cry of wah-o-nai-sa, and if it be not quickly answered he shall return to see what is wrong. Is it well?"
"It is well," replied Nahma, and the two went their respective ways as agreed.
With the utmost caution and without a sound louder than his own breathing did Nahma circle towards the lighted space marking the limit of the forest. All at once he stopped and listened. From behind him, faint and distant, he had heard an unmistakable exclamation of surprise.
It was not repeated nor did he hear further sounds, but it was enough, and after a moment of listening he started back over the way he had come. He found the place where he had parted from his companion, and then followed the slight trail made by the latter. Suddenly and without warning he came upon a sight so startling that he stood in his tracks like one petrified, gazing at it with dilated eyes.
Two warriors locked in a deadly embrace lay motionless on the ground. Their surroundings were drenched with blood, and to all appearance both were dead. Nahma stooped over them, and saw to his horror that one of the faces, so swollen and distorted that he had not sooner recognized it, was that of his recent comrade. The other was a Huron, and a knife still clutched by the Beaver's hand was buried to the hilt in his heart. At the same time his own fingers held the throat of the young Iroquois with a grip like that of a vise.
It required all of Nahma's strength to unlock that death-clutch, but at length he succeeded, and the two mortal foes so recently thrilled with vigorous life lay side by side stark and rigid.
CHAPTER IX ON THE LAKE
Nahma gazed about him in dismay. Night was coming on, he was alone in a place of which he had no knowledge, and he believed himself surrounded by enemies. He even fancied he could see dark faces peering at him from behind the shadowy tree-trunks. Above all, the companion upon whom he had relied for guidance and counsel lay dead at his feet. Although a savage himself, accustomed only to savage sights and ways, our lad had seen so little of death that this last fact seemed incredible. He kneeled beside the Beaver and gazed into his face, calling him by name in a low voice and bidding him open his eyes.