Minchee threw her arms wildly around her lover.
For a brief second the assailants halted, not daring to strike the daughter of their chief.
The Young Eagle clasped her firmly to his bosom and bounded away with the speed of an antelope, he knew not wither.
Onward, over rocks and dells he flew with his precious burden, her arms thrown protectingly around and above him. Upon the narrow defile to the fearful precipice he bore her and then suddenly halted. He thought to release her there, believing she could return safely to her father, but she grappled to him as though her slight arms were hooks of steel.
The hot breath of the hated rival was felt upon his cheek, and his tomahawk flashed like a meteor above him.
The Young Eagle gave the would-be assassin one proud, defiant glance, and folding the Morning Star in a closer embrace, he leaped into the foaming torrent below.
Yaho Hadjo's uplifted weapon fell forward with a sudden impetus which forced him headlong down the lofty pinnacle, among the sharp, rugged bowlders, where his body was afterwards found a mangled, lifeless corpse.
The remaining warriors were transfixed with horror and dismay as they gazed wildly into the furious river.
To attempt a rescue would have been folly and madness, as no breathing creature could have survived the fall.