helpless."

The huge warrior threw back his head and laughed.

"Look your last at the skies, Onondaga," he said, "because you will soon
pass into silence and darkness. It is not for a great chief to be slain
by a mere boy."

Tayoga said no more, but gazed steadily into the eyes of the Ojibway.
Then the two circled slowly, each intently watching every movement of
the other. The great body of Tandakora was poised like that of a
panther, the huge muscles rippling under his bronze skin. But the
slender figure of Tayoga was instinct also with strength, and with an
incomparable grace and lightness. He seemed to move without effort, like
a beam of light.

Tandakora crouched as he moved slowly toward the right. Then his arm
suddenly shot back and he hurled his tomahawk with incredible force. The
Onondaga threw his head to one side and the glittering blade, flying on,
clove a ranger to the chin. Then Tayoga threw his own weapon, but
Tandakora, with a quick shift evading it, drew his knife and, rushing
in, cried:

"Now I have you, dog of an Onondaga!"

Not in vain was Tayoga as swift as a beam of light. Not in vain was that
light figure made of wrought steel. Leaping to one side, he drew his own
knife and struck with all his might at the heart of that huge, rushing
figure. The blade went true, and so tremendous was the blow that
Tandakora, falling in a heap, gave up his fierce and savage soul.

"They run! They run!" cried Robert. "The whole French army is running!"

It was true. The entire French force was pouring back toward the gates
of the city, their leaders vainly trying to rally the soldiers. The
skirmishers fell back with them. A figure, darting from a bush, turned
to pull trigger on Robert, and then uttered a cry of terror.

"A ghost! It is a ghost!" he exclaimed in French.

But a second look told Achille Garay that it was no ghost. It may have
been a miracle, but it was Robert Lennox come back in the flesh, and his
finger returned to the trigger. Another was quicker. The hunter saw him.

"That for you, Garay!" he cried, and sent a bullet through the spy's
heart. Then, drawing the two lads with him, he rushed forward in
pursuit.

The confusion in the French army was increasing. Its defeat was fast
becoming a rout, but some of the officers still strove to stay the
panic. Robert saw one on a white horse gallop before a huddle of fleeing
men. But the soldiers, swerving, ran on. A bullet struck the horse and
h