in a sort of pious fraud, thinking, that while the danger
menaced himself, there could surely be no sin in extolling the merits of
another; "how many howling Siouxes has he struck, like a warrior in open
combat, while arrows were sailing in the air plentier than flakes of
falling snow! Go! will Weucha speak the name of one enemy he has ever
struck?"

"Hard-Heart!" shouted the Sioux, turning in his fury, and aiming a
deadly blow at the head of his victim. His arm fell into the hollow of
the captive's hand. For a single moment the two stood, as if entranced
in that attitude, the one paralysed by so unexpected a resistance, and
the other bending his head, not to meet his death, but in the act of
the most intense attention. The women screamed with triumph, for they
thought the nerves of the captive had at length failed him. The trapper
trembled for the honour of his friend; and Hector, as if conscious of
what was passing, raised his nose into the air, and uttered a piteous
howl.

But the Pawnee hesitated, only for that moment. Raising the other hand,
like lightning, the tomahawk flashed in the air, and Weucha sunk to his
feet, brained to the eye. Then cutting a way with the bloody weapon, he
darted through the opening, left by the frightened women, and seemed to
descend the declivity at a single bound.

Had a bolt from Heaven fallen in the midst of the Teton band it would
not have occasioned greater consternation, than this act of desperate
hardihood. A shrill plaintive cry burst from the lips of all the women,
and there was a moment, that even the oldest warriors appeared to have
lost their faculties. This stupor endured only for the instant. It was
succeeded by a yell of revenge, that burst from a hundred throats, while
as many warriors started forward at the cry, bent on the most bloody
retribution. But a powerful and authoritative call from Mahtoree
arrested every foot. The chief, in whose countenance disappointment
and rage were struggling with the affected composure of his station,
extended an arm towards the river, and the whole mystery was explained.

Hard-Heart had already crossed half the bottom, which lay between the
acclivity and the water. At this precise moment a band of armed and
mounted Pawnees turned a swell, and galloped to the margin of the
stream, into which the plunge of the fugitive was distinctly heard. A
few minutes sufficed for his vigorous arm to conquer the passage, and
then the shout from the