e Bull-Head to seek his captive. He commanded us to come
down, but I refused, telling him that if he attempted to take the
Swallow--for he thought that the body wrapped in the white cloak was
she--she would certainly escape him by hurling herself from the cliff.
Thus I gained much time, for now from my height I could see her whom
I knew to be the lady Swallow travelling across the plain towards the
saw-edge rock, although I was puzzled because she seemed to carry a
child upon her back; but perhaps it was a bundle.

"At last he grew impatient, and without warning lifted his gun and
fired at me, aiming low, for he feared lest the ball should pierce my
mistress. The shot struck my leg where you see, and being unable to stop
myself, although I broke my fall by clutching with my hands, I rolled
down the rock to the ground beneath, but not over the edge of the
precipice as I could have wished to do, for at the last I had intended
to escape him by throwing myself from it.

"Leaving me unable to move he began to ascend the pinnacle, calling
your daughter Swallow by sweet names as a man calls a shy horse which
he fears will escape him. I watched from below, and even in my pain
I laughed, for now I knew what must come. Since the Swallow did not
answer, Bull-Head, wishing to be cunning, crept behind her in silence,
and of a sudden seized the cloak and the arm beneath it, for he feared
lest she should choose death and cheat him.

"Then it was that the body rolled over toward him; then it was that he
saw the whitened face and the black breast beneath. Ah! lady, you should
have heard his oaths and his yell of rage as he scrambled down the rocks
towards me.

"'What think you of your bride?' I asked him as he came, for I knew that
I must die and did not care how soon.

"'This is your trick, witch,' he gasped, 'and now I will kill you.'

"'Kill on, butcher,' I answered, 'at least I shall die happy, having
beaten you at last.'

"'No, not yet,' he said presently, 'for if you grow silent, how shall I
learn where you have hidden Suzanne Botmar?'

"'Suzanne Kenzie, wife of the Englishman, butcher,' I answered again.

"'Also,' he went on, grinding his teeth, 'I desire that you should die
slowly.' Then he called some of his men, and they carried me in a kaross
to this place. Here by the river he lashed me to the stone, and, knowing
that already, from loss of blood and lack of drink, I was in the agonies
of thirst, he tormented me by