sted
the fainting Kentuckian upon the animal's back, leaped up behind him,
and was dashing with wild speed up the hill, yelling with triumph, and
laughing to scorn the bullets that were shot vainly after.

All this the unhappy Roland beheld, and with a revulsion of feelings,
that can only be imagined. He saw, without, indeed, entirely
comprehending the cause, the sudden confusion and final flight of the
little band, at the moment of anticipated victory. He saw them flying
wildly up the hill, in irretrievable rout, followed by the whooping
victors, who, with the fugitives, soon vanished entirely from view,
leaving the field of battle to the dead and to the thrice miserable
captives.

CHAPTER XX.

The conflict, though sharp and hot, considering the insignificant number
of combatants on either side, was of no very long duration, the whole
time, from the appearance of the Kentuckians until the flight, scarce
exceeding half an hour. But the pursuit, which the victors immediately
commenced, lasted a much longer space; and it was more than an hour,--an
age of suspense and suffering to the soldier,--before the sound of
whooping on the hill apprised him of their return. They brought with
them, as trophies of success two horses, on each of which sat three or
four different Indians, as many indeed as could get upon the animal's
back, where they clung together, shouting, laughing, and otherwise
diverting themselves, more like joyous schoolboys than stern warriors who
had just fought and won a bloody, battle.

But this semblance of mirth and good humour lasted no longer than while
the savages were riding from the hill-top to the battle-ground, which
having reached, they sprang upon the ground, and running wildly about,
uttered several cries of the most mournful character, laments, as Roland
supposed, over the bodies of their fallen companions.

But if such was their sorrow while looking-upon their own dead, the sight
of their lifeless foemen--of whom two, besides the negro Emperor, who had
been tomahawked the moment after he fell, had been unhappily left lying
on the field--soon changed it into a fiercer passion. The wail became
a yell of fury, loud and frightful; and Roland could see them gathering
around each corpse, striking the senseless clay repeatedly with their
knives and hatchets, each seeking to surpass his fellow in the savage
work of mutilation. Such is the red man of America, whom courage, an
attribute of a