the tree, trembled lest one of them should discover their property

beneath the heap of leaves. Fortunately they were too intent upon

watching their leader, and presently they moved out of sight as silently

and as quickly as they had appeared.

Their guide explained that these warriors were from beyond the

mountains, and were no doubt out after scalps from an enemy village in

the next valley. Till the battle was over, it would not be safe

to leave their retreat, he said, so he climbed down and

collected food and drink from their covered hole.

Presently above the voice of the river, they heard the warcries and a mighty whooping and screaming, which continued

presistently throughout the day. The Indian said it must have

been a hard-fought

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fight, but could not judge which side had been the victors. At last the

sun went down behind the mountains. The twilight was short, and dusk

quickly gave place to a black night. “Mountain Cat” then decided to spy

out the situation and to see whether or not it would be safe to continue

on the trail. He would be back, he said, within the hour, and enjoined

the Englishmen on no account to leave their hiding-place. So they waited

with what patience they coul d, listening to the loud screaming of a wardance.

When the moon arose, Doctor Syn calculated that their guide had been

absent some three hours, and feared that he had been either captured or

cut off. They then discussed whether or not they could go in search of

him.

When they had waited a considerable time, and still so sign of the

Indians, they climbed down from the tree, and set off.

Now, although the village was less than a mile away, they encountered

the greatest difficulties in reaching it. In most places the undergrowth

was breath high, and when overcome, led to one of the many impetuous

mountain streams that had to be crossed upon slippery boulders, and it

was actually dawn before they crawled over a hillock in the forest and

looked down upon a clearing. It as evident that here had been the site

of the village, but all that remained was charred wrecks of smoldering

habitations. Beneath a number of blackened stakes erected in a rude

circle lay many bodies that had been fired, while in the centre of this

grim arena, was a naked Indian tied to a trunk of a tree. He was still

alive, for his limbs kept moving as he attempted to relieve the tight

agony of the biting ropes that bound him. Around the clearing were

ranked more than a hundred warriors, the very men who had passed the

canoe the day before, because the Englishman recognized their leader,

who had stood upon the rock. He was going from man to man, as though

inspecting them. From every score or so he chose one, who stepped

forward from the lin e. When the five had been selected, the Brave

signaled to the rest, who turned and walked off silently into the woods.

Syn and Mipps noted that the five were not so gaily decorated either

with feathers or war -paint as their fellows who were watching. The B rave

then advanced to the bound man, and with his knife severed the cords.

The exhausted victim collapsed for a moment on the hard, beaten earth,

but after rubbing his chafed limbs he stoop up proudly and faced the

Chief.

Having his back to the hillock where Syn and Mipps crouched, they

could not see his face, but there was something in the bearing of his

tall, gaunt frame which made them certain that this was indeed their

missing guide.

“Those five rascals are to be his executioners,” whispered Syn.

“Compared to the others, they are the but youngsters and are no doubt

about to prove their worth with blood-letting. Had the rest not gone, we

should have been hard put to it, to resuce our ‘Mountain Cat’, but this

lot we can tackle. I think the Chief will follow his men and leave the

dirty work to these cadets. If so, we shall be rid of him the easier.”

It was then that they saw the Chief advance to the victim and, with

what seemed a gesture of courtesy, hand him his own tomahawk. This

looked a heavy weapon with a bright steel blade.

“He is allowing him the right to defend himself,” whispered Syn, as

he fingered the butts of his pistols. “And I was right in my guess. I

believe he is about to follow the tribe.”

Indeed, the Chieftain had turned his back upon the prisoner and with

majestic strides walked to the five young warriors, who at the same time

began to execute fantastic steps, working themselves up into a frenzy

for killing. The Chief halted some five paces in front of them, and

raising both arms to

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the dawning sky, appeared to be blessing their prowess. He was then some

twenty paces from the armed prisoner, and still with his back to him.

It was then that they saw the man they took to be “Mountain Cat” take

two steps forward, s winging the tomahawk, and with a mighty effort hurl

it through the air. It struck the Chieftain with terrific force between

the shoulder -blades, the steel of the ax actually severing the long tail

of feathers from his head-dress. The hands, uplifted as they had been in

benediction, clawed the air convulsively, and then down he fell full

length upon his face. Bereft of his weapon, the prisoner folded his arms

and stoically awaited his death at the hands of the five. The sudden

killing of their Chief, whom they took to be dead without examination,

caused them to dance with the greater fury, and with each step they

capered nearer to his slayer.

“Now, Mipps,” said Syn. “You to his right, I to his left. Pistols and

then steel.”

“No quarter, eh?” asked Mipps as they ran.

“None,” replied Syn.

The whirling frenzy of the five did much to help the surprise attack

of the Englishmen, who were on them before they could realize that their

unarmed victim now supported. Then they rushed altogether. Syn brought

down his two flank men by firing his pistols simultaneously and

practically at point -blank range. Mipps fired his right pistol, and hit,

but did not kill, so, quickly changing over by dropping the discharged

weapon and grabbing the other with his right hand from his left, he used

the second charge upon the same attacker killing him then outright, and

hurling his pistol in the face of the next attacker, which checked him

for a second and enabled Mipps to draw his cutlass, a weapon with which

he had made himself acquainted aboard the pirate ship. With it he met

the murderous blow of the tomahawk, and ran his second man through the

stomach with the point. The middle man rushed not at Syn but at the

Indian, and had not Syn’s long blade darted in between his ribs the

Chieftains death must have been avenged. As it was, the rescued Indian

by refusing to leap back in the face of his enemies, received a bad

flesh cut in the leg as his attacker fell dead. From body to body went

Syn passing his sword through the heart of each, and crying out to Mipps

that they must get to cover quickly, lest the noise from this pistols

should bring the tribe back.

Mipps made a strange reply: “Well, I’ll be damned!” he said.

“And why?” demanded Syn, as he cleaned his blade with a handful of

dust.

Mipps scratched his head and pointed to the Indian. “Why, sir, this

‘ere ain’t Mister Pussy at all.”

Syn looked and said, “By gag you’re right! It’s not ‘Mountain Cat.’”

“‘Mountain Cat’ scalped and burned, said the Indian in English. “Me