Page 211 (1/1)

The three Indians of e must rid ourselves were approved warriors, fierce as wolves, cunning as foxes, keen-eyed as hawks They had no reason to doubt us, to dream that ould turn upon them, but frohtly in their belts

As for us, alked slowly, s down in the spaces where the trees fell aas not brighter than our mood Had we not smoked the peace pipe? Were we not on our way ho behind e who strode beside hiun which he had at Jah at his earliest convenience, and Diccon would un, provided the pelts were to his liking As they talked, each, in his mind's eye, saw the other dead before hiht to take it himself from the munition house at Jamestown; the other knew that the otter which died not until this Indian's arrow quivered in its side would live until doo theain clinched, walked on side by side in the silence of a perfect and all-co thethe red ht down through the pine branches to splinter against the dark earth far below For an hour it shone; then clouds gathered and shut it froht The forest darkened, and the wind arose with a shriek The young trees cowered before the blast, the strong and vigorous beat their branches together with a groaning sound, the old and worn fell crashing to the earth Presently the rain rushed down, slant lines of silver tearing through the ith the sound of the feet of an ar all tender green things to the earth The wind took the htened birds, the creaking trees, the snap of breaking boughs, the crash of falling giants, the rush of the rain, the dru of the hail,--enwound thereat shell held close to the ear

There was no house to flee to; so long as we could face the hail we staggered on, heads down, buffeting the wind; but at last, the fury of the stor, ere fain to throw ourselves upon the earth, in a little brake, where an overhanging bank so above us, shells; but if ent on, the like fate ht meet us in the way Broken and withered limbs, driven by the wind, went past us like crooked shadows; it grew darker and darker, and the air was deadly cold