“Who said I war goin’ to kill?” cried Bell. “I’m willin’ to spare; but I’m desp’ratly afeard somebody else won’t.”
The trader groaned, and followed Bell back into the cave.
Coleola and Bardue had been conducted to the large chamber, where, sullen and silent, they stood before many an eye, flashing with vengeance of the direst nature.
“So ye thought we warn’t hyar, eh?” said the big hunter, fastening his eyes upon the creole. “Wal, ef your red devils hadn’t ’tacked this hole an’ killed Oll Blount, ye wouldn’t ’a’ found us hyar, either. Ther folks war buryin’ Oll when ye come, an’ now I calkilate as how thar’s goin’ to be some more funerals. Woman,” and he turned to the Snake Queen who was regarding Swamp Oak and her dumb daughter with flashing eyes, “how did you git out o’ that cave!”
“Coleola crawled forth like the snake,” she answered, suddenly finding her tongue. “The Big Moccasin struck her when she bore the Lone Dove through the darkness; but she crept away, and they did not hunt her long. The big noise filled her head with thunder, and when she opened her eyes she crawled into the woods. She saw the big hunter drive the red-man from the cave, and then she flew back to find the Delawares. But she met the Bloodhound in the woods, and they are here—Coleola and the Yellow one.”
“An’ what does Coleola expect?” asked the hunter.
She answered, quickly:
“Death!”
“Yes, Coleola shall step upon the death-trail!” cried Swamp Oak, darting forward. “She has torn Ulalah’s tongue from her mouth, and Ulalah shall visit the same punishment upon the she-panther whom she once called mother.”
The doomed woman uttered a terrible shriek, as the Indian halted before her with drawn knife, and when he commanded the avenging child to prepare for her horrible work, a whirlwind of passion swept across the Snake Queen’s frame, and she wrenched her only hand from the thongs which held it captive.