“We’d better keep our opptickles peeled,” said Nat, “or we might git sick with lead pills on the stomach. I persume tew say thet thar’s copper-skins ’round. Jist toss me over thet hatchet, will ye?”
When the traps were set, both men proceeded up the stream. As they were passing through a small open spot, they were suddenly surprised by half a dozen Indians, who rushed out at them from the bushes.
“Yahoo!” shouted Wild Nat. “Here’s for a scrimmage. Come on, ye yaller-skinned alligators. I’m ekal tew any ten of ye!” and drawing his bowie-knife with his right hand, and his revolver with his left, he plunged at them, striking right and left, and firing at the same time.
Wayne, meantime, was not idle. With his rifle he brought down one of the savages, and then, as the other barrel was empty, he clubbed it, and swinging it about his head dealt blows right and left with terrible fury.
In a moment half the Indians were down, and the remainder, surprised and bewildered by the decision and effect with which they were met, when they had counted on a complete surprise, took to their heels and vanished in a twinkling.
“Purty well done,” said the trapper, coolly. “We’ve unkivered four greasy nobs, an’ the rest, residew, an’ remainder has measured sile. He! he! I guess they thought the climate warn’t healthy—not adapted to thar peculiar constitutions, so tew speak. Let’s lift ha’r.”
“Heavens!” ejaculated Kent, “you are not going to scalp them?”
“I consider I be!” returned the trapper. “Wild Nat Rogers ain’t the feller tew let ’em off with thar top-knots unmerlested. Kinder mortifies ’em, ye see, tew hev thar ha’r lifted, an’ any thin’ to morterfy a red nigger, I say.”
“Only the savages practice that barbarity,” said Kent. “Why are you better than they if you follow their customs?”
“By virtew of bein’ born a white man,” replied the trapper, proceeding to remove the scalps of the fallen foe, while his companion went aside, not caring to witness the operation.