or yer
cargo?"

"Vaya! A bird in the hand's worth two in the bush."

"He's a trader. Who's goin' to take his word?"

"Rot his cargo! Scalps or cash, cash or scalps! that's this niggur's
advice; an' if ye don't take it, boys, ye may leave it! but it's all the
pay ye'll ever crook yer claws on."

The men had tasted blood, and like the tiger, they thirsted for more.
There were glaring eyes on all sides, and the countenances of some
exhibited an animal ferociousness hideous to look upon. The half-robber
discipline that hitherto ruled in the band seemed to have completely
departed, and the authority of the chief to be set at defiance.

On the other side stood the females, clinging and huddling together.
They could not understand the mutinous language, but they saw
threatening attitudes and angry faces. They saw knives drawn, and heard
the cocking of guns and pistols. They knew there was danger, and they
crouched together, whimpering with fear.

Up to this moment Seguin had stood giving directions for the mounting of
his captives. His manner was strangely abstracted, as it had been ever
since the scene of meeting with his daughter. That greater care,
gnawing at his heart, seemed to render him insensible to what was
passing. He was not so.

As Kirker ended (for he was the last speaker) a change came over
Sequin's manner, quick as a flash of lightning. Suddenly rousing
himself from his attitude of indifference, he stepped forward in front
of the mutineers.

"Dare!" shouted he, in a voice of thunder, "dare to dishonour your
oaths! By heavens! the first man who raises knife or rifle shall die on
the instant!"

There was a pause, and a moment of deep silence.

"I had made a vow," continued he, "that should it please God to restore
me my child, this hand should be stained with no more blood. Let any
man force me to break that vow, and, by Heaven, his blood shall be the
first to stain it!"

A vengeful murmur ran through the crowd, but no one replied.

"You are but a cowardly brute, with all your bluster," he continued,
turning round to Kirker, and looking him in the eye. "Up with that
knife! quick! or I will send this bullet through your ruffian heart!"

Seguin had drawn his pistol, and stood in an attitude that told he would
execute the threat. His form seemed to have grown larger; his eye
dilated, flashing as it rolled, and the man shrank before its glance.
He saw death in it if he disobeyed, and wi