he 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.

Wetzel halted; frenzied as he was at the sight of his foe, he could
not hurt a woman.

"Girl, let go!" he panted, and his broad breast heaved.

"No, no, no! Listen, Wetzel, you must not kill the chief. He is a
friend."

"He is my great foe!"

"Listen, oh! please listen!" pleaded Nell. "He warned me to flee
from Girty; he offered to guide us to Fort Henry. He has saved my
life. For my sake, Wetzel, do not kill him! Don't let me be the
cause of his murder! Wetzel, Wetzel, lower your arm, drop your
hatchet. For pity's sake do not spill more blood. Wingenund is a
Christian!"

Wetzel stepped back breathing heavily. His white face resembled
chiseled marble. With those little hands at his breast he hesitated
in front of the chief he had hunted for so many long years.

"Would you kill a Christian?" pleaded Nell, her voice sweet and
earnest.

"I reckon not, but this Injun ain't one," replied Wetzel slowly.

"Put away your hatchet. Let me have it. Listen, and I will tell you,
after thanking you for this rescue. Do you know of my marriage?
Come, please listen! Forget for a moment your enmity. Oh! you must
be merciful! Brave men are always merciful!"

"Injun, are you a Christian?" hissed Wetzel.

"Oh! I know he is! I know he is!" cried Nell, still standing between
Wetzel and the chief.

Wingenund spoke no word. He did not move. His falcon eyes gazed
tranquilly at his white foe. Christian or pagan, he would not speak
one word to save his life.

"Oh! tell him you are a Christian," cried Nell, running to the
chief.

"Yellow-hair, the Delaware is true to his race."

As he spoke gently to Ne