The white dog stood near, his hair bristling, his teeth snapping.
The dark birds sat on the dead branches above the hilltop, as if waiting for their feast.
Chapter XXVIII.
Zane turned and cut the young missionary's bonds. Jim ran to where
Nell was lying on the ground, and tenderly raised her head, calling
to her that they were saved. Zane bathed the girl's pale face.
Presently she sighed and opened her eyes.
Then Zane looked from the statuelike form of Wingenund to the motionless figure of Wetzel. The chief stood erect with his eyes on the distant hills. Wetzel remained with folded arms, his cold eyes fixed upon the writhing, moaning renegade.
"Lew, look here," said Zane, unhesitatingly, and pointed toward the chief.
Wetzel quivered as if sharply stung; the cold glitter in his eyes changed to lurid fire. With upraised tomahawk he bounded across the brook.
"Lew, wait a minute!" yelled Zane.
"Wetzel! wait, wait!" cried Jim, grasping the hunter's arm; but the latter flung him off, as the wind tosses a straw.
"Wetzel, wait, for God's sake, wait!" screamed Nell. She had risen at Zane's call, and now saw the deadly resolve in the hunter's eyes. Fearlessly she flung herself in front of him; bravely she risked her life before his mad rush; frantically she threw her arms around him and clung to his hands desperately.