Suddenly the Shawnee made the spring with the agility of the forest deer; but, instead of reaching the rock, he leaped ten feet in the air, and, with a chilling death-yell, he fell to the earth, and rolled fifty feet down the hill, shot by an unknown foe! A hundred cries from below reëchoed the shout, and the advantage so mysteriously gained by the scouts proved of short duration, for another swarthy warrior was advancing toward the cover so lately occupied by his stricken brother. Now the attack in front claimed the scout’s attention, and while thus engaged the brave leaped for the rock only to fall dead by the same mysterious shot. This last shot cast dismay into the ranks of the attacking party, and at sundown they retired to plan anew for the destruction of the whites.
The heavens now became shrouded with opaque clouds, and presently a figure resembling an animal was seen crawling toward the scouts.
“An Indian!” whispered Kenowatha, and his rifle was brought to bear upon the dark object.
Already his finger touched the trigger, when the peculiar cry of the young She-wolf greeted his ears, and his rifle fell from his shoulder.
“Nanette!”
The figure rose to an erect posture, and the next moment the Girl Avenger grasped the hands of the scouts. It was she who had delivered the mysterious shots. She had reached the Mount a short time in advance of the spies, and when surrounded by the Indians, concluded that she could assist them from her place of concealment as much as though at their sides.
An escape was now thought of, and in the darkness the trio left their position. Before they deserted the mount, the bodies of no less than thirteen Indians lay scalpless thereon, and the brows of some bore a red crescent, those of others a bloody cross!
As Kenowatha placed his mark upon the forehead of the last brave slain by his rifle, he took Nanette’s hand.
“Girl,” he whispered, “do you recollect your promise in the cave?”
“Yes, boy.”