ce was so sharp that it cracked like a
pistol.

Henry made a mighty leap forward, and shot down between the lines so
swiftly that the first blows aimed at him fell after he had passed. Then
a switch cut him across the shoulders, a stick grazed his head, another
glanced off his back as he fled, but he was so quick that the sticks and
switches invariably fell too late. This was what he had hoped for; if he
could keep ahead of the shower of blows for forty or fifty yards all
might go well. It would go well! It must go well! Hope flamed high in
him, and he seemed to grow stronger at every leap. The Indians were
shouting with delight at the sport, but so intent was he upon his
purpose that he did not hear them.

Henry looked up for a moment, and he saw near him the face of
Timmendiquas, who had followed him down the line, seeking, it seemed, to
give a blow on his account. Beside him, a warrior held a heavy club
poised to strike. Henry saw that he could not escape it, and his heart
sank, like a plummet in a pool. But the great chief, so sure of foot,
stumbled and fell against the warrior with the poised club. The blow
went wide, and Henry was untouched. He ran on, but he understood.

He had marked a spot in the line, fifty yards on, perhaps, where it
seemed weakest. With the exception of the leader of the renegades,
Girty, it was mostly women and children who stood there. Now he was
nearing them. He saw Girty's cruel, grinning face, and the heavy stick
in his hand poised for a blow.

He could not run in a perfectly straight line, because he was compelled
to dodge right or left to escape the clubs, and he was not always
successful. One, a glancing blow, made his head ring, but in a moment
his will threw off the effect, and the sting of it merely incited him to
greater effort. Now the face of Girty was just before him, and the
shouting of the Indians was so loud that he could not but hear.

He saw Girty raise his club, and, quick as lightning, Henry, turning off
at a right angle, hurled himself directly at Girty, passed within the
circle of the falling club, seized the renegade's arm, and wrenched his
weapon from his grasp.

It was done in a second, but the Indian warriors near instantly sprang
for the pair. The impact of Henry's body knocked Girty to his knees and,
as he fell, the youth made a sweeping blow at him with the captured
club. Had Henry been left time to balance himself for the stroke, the
evil deeds of Simon