Tecumseh gained the furthest bank, when three dark objects sprung from the grass.
“Ho!”
Tecumseh halted suddenly, as if stricken by an arrow.
Tom Kyle drew a pistol.
An Indian sat bolt upright on a horse, not twenty yards in his front, and he saw that a rifle covered his heart.
He discovered more than this. He recognized Sleeping Bear, the Crow, whose visit to the village he had lately witnessed from his prison.
The Crow had seemed a mute; but had not the exclamation which brought Tecumseh to a halt fallen from his lips?
The mental interrogative was soon answered to the renegade’s satisfaction and astonishment.
“Tom Kyle, you’ve got my horse!”
The fugitive king saw all now.