ex of a whirlwind. But such tremendous exertion could not last
long. Eight to one made too great a difference between the contending
parties, and the only possible conclusion of the struggle soon came.
Seized upon by desperate, clinging, wolf-like assailants, the white men
felt their arms, legs and bodies weighted down and their strength fast
going.

Kenton fell next after Oncle Jazon, and was soon tightly bound with
rawhide thongs. He lay on his back panting and utterly exhausted, while
Beverley still kept up the unequal fight.

Long-Hair sprang in at the last moment to make doubly certain the
securing of his most important captive. He flung his long and powerful
arms around Beverley from behind and made a great effort to throw him
upon the ground. The young man, feeling this fresh and vigorous clasp,
turned himself about to put forth one more mighty spurt of power. He
lifted the stalwart Indian bodily and dashed him headlong against the
buttressed root of a tree half a rod distant, breaking the smaller bone
of his left fore-arm and well-nigh knocking him senseless.

It was a fine exhibition of manly strength; but there could be nothing
gained by it. A blow on the back of his head the next instant stretched
Beverley face downward and unconscious on the ground. The savages
turned him over and looked satisfied when they found that he was not
dead. They bound him with even greater care than they had shown in
securing the others, while Long-Hair stood by stolidly looking on,
meantime supporting his broken fore-arm in his hand.

"Ugh! dog!" he grunted, and gave Beverley a kick in the side. Then
turning a fiendish stare upon Oncle Jazon he proceeded to deliver
against his old, dry ribs three or four like contributions with
resounding effect. "Polecat! Little old greasy woman!" he snarled,
"make good fire for warrior to dance by!" Kenton also received his full
share of the kicks and verbal abuse, after which Long-Hair gave orders
for fires to be built. Then he looked to his hurt arm and had the bone
set and bandaged, never so much as wincing the while.

It was soon apparent that the Indians purposed to celebrate their
successful enterprise with a feast. They cooked a large amount of
buffalo steak; then, each with his hands full of the savory meat, they
began to dance around the fires, droning meantime an atrociously
repellant chant.

"They're a 'spectin' to hev a leetle bit o' fun outen us," muttered
Oncle Jazon to Bev