Then the young man caught up the wolf, and faced Simon.
“Simon Girty,” he cried, determined to sell his life dearly, if sell it he must, “another step will bring my wolf’s teeth in contact with your throat. I am a Shawnee now; as such acknowledged by Tecumseh, who is able to punish the bravest man who harms one of his people.”
“If you be Shawnee, curse you!” cried Girty, mechanically shrinking from the flashing eyes of the upreared wolf. “But I must have a white victim. The whites have torn my head open, and I must have white blood.”
He turned and took in the village at a glance, as his brother scrambled to his feet.
At that moment Miantomah, a deposed chief, and a bitter enemy of Jim Girty, stepped to his side, and pointed to the prison lodge.
“In yonder lodge dwells a pale-face captive,” said Miantomah. “Let the White Chief have her blood.”
Simon Girty darted forward, his wicked eyes fastened upon Eudora’s lodge.
“She’s mine!” yelled James, throwing himself before his mad brother. “Simon, that girl is mine! Touch her upon your peril!”
The command was disregarded with an oath, and the enraged Simon threw his brother from him, and continued his vengeful bounds toward the prison lodge.
Jim Girty was soon on his feet, and his first action was to snatch a rifle from the nearest brave, and level it at his brother!