And from the point of the knife which Silver Rifle griped, fresh, warm blood dropped and stained the leaves at her feet!
“I’ll defend the little talker to the death!” she cried, facing the savages, whose tomahawks shone and clashed scarce five feet away. “I have but paid Oagla for his indignity of other days. I scorn to fly now. I am the prisoner of Mossuit, and the Oaglan brave who touches me receives the blade damp with the blood of his chief!”
The avenging warriors shrunk from her flashing eyes, and the tableau was broken by Mossuit himself, who sprung into the gap, and declared that the path to Silver Rifle led over his dead body!
Sullen, but not silent, the braves eyed the chief whose wiles had encompassed Hondurah’s death; but not a movement was made, until the report of a rifle, discharged not thirty yards away, startled every one.
Silver Rifle reeled and fell into the arms of her red companion!
If she was dead, it was murder most foul!
CHAPTER XIV.
TWO SCENES IN A TREE TOP.
It is, perhaps, necessary that the fate of Doc Cromer should be told here, and some mention made of Dorsey Webb, whose disappearance so excited Mossuit and his braves.
The trader found himself in the midst of the wild dogs, after dispatching their ferocious leader.
They sprung at him with the fury of famished wolves, and he struck right and left with deadly effect, until the sharp teeth pulled him to earth, and then, unable to resist any longer, he gave himself up for lost.