The chief's suspicions
seemed to be allayed.
But in truth this chief, with the wonderful sagacity natural to
Indians, had observed matters which totally escaped the young
braves, and, like a wily old fox, he waited to see which cub would
prove the keenest. Not one of them, however, noted anything unusual.
They sat around the fire, ate their meat and parched corn, and
chatted volubly.
The chief arose and, walking to the ladder, ran his hand along one
of the rungs.
"Ugh!" he exclaimed.
Instantly he was surrounded by ten eager, bright-eyed braves. He
extended his open palm; it was smeared with wet clay like that under
his feet. Simultaneously with their muttered exclamations the braves
grasped their weapons. They knew there was a foe above them. It was
a paleface, for an Indian would have revealed himself.
The hunter, seeing he was discovered, acted with the unerring
judgment and lightning-like rapidity of one long accustomed to
perilous situations. Drawing his tomahawk and noiselessly stepping
to the hole in the loft, he leaped into the midst of the astounded
Indians.
Rising from the floor like the rebound of a rubber ball, his long
arm with the glittering hatchet made a wide sweep, and the young
braves scattered like frightened sheep.
He made a dash for the door and, incredible as it may seem, his
movements were so quick he would have escaped from their very midst
without a scratch but for one unforeseen circumstance.
Pages:
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81