“And the chief has saved him from the vengeance of Bear-Killer that he might have his revenge!” said Ku-nan-gu-no-nah, with a grim, devilish smile. “Let the warrior wait, and he shall see the vengeance of a chief.”
He advanced toward the tree; and, as he neared it, his gaze fell on the dead and horribly mangled bodies of the savages who had fallen before the terrible charge of the Phantom Rider.
The undergrowth had concealed them from his view until now.
He started back with a loud cry of surprise and wonder.
“Did he do it?” he asked, pointing toward the swaying white man.
“No,” said Bear-Killer, in a voice that was half a gasp. “No; it was—”
“Who then?” interrogated the chief, in an awed whisper.
“The Spirit Warrior.”
“The Spirit Warrior!”
The chief reiterated the words in a dazed sort of way, like one under some subtle spell, while for an instant a shudder seemed to convulse his massive frame, causing it to shake like an aspen.