omethin' comin' off," whispered Wetzel, as Zane's low growl grew
unintelligible.

Jonathan felt, rather than saw, Wetzel tremble.

"The missionaries are consultin'. Ah! there comes one! Which? I
guess it's Edwards. By gum! who's that Injun stalkin' over from the
hostile bunch. Big chief, whoever he is. Blest if it ain't Half
King!"

The watchers saw the chief wave his arm and speak with evident
arrogance to Edwards, who, however, advanced to the platform and
raised his hand to address the Christians.

"Crack!"

A shot rang out from the thicket. Clutching wildly at his breast,
the missionary reeled back, staggered, and fell.

"One of those skulkin' redskins has killed Edwards," said Zane.
"But, no; he's not dead! He's gettin' up. Mebbe he ain't hurt bad.
By gum! there's Young comin' forward. Of all the fools!"

It was indeed true that Young had faced the Indians. Half King
addressed him as he had the other; but Young raised his hand and
began speaking.

"Crack!"

Another shot rang out. Young threw up his hands and fell heavily.
The missionaries rushed toward him. Mr. Wells ran round the group,
wringing his hands as if distracted.

"He's hard hit," hissed Zane, between his teeth. "You can tell that
by the way he fell."

Wetzel did not answer. He lay silent and motionless, his long body
rigid, and his face like marble.

"There comes the other young fellar--Joe's brother. He'll get
plugged, too," continued Zane, whispering rather to himself than to
his companion. "Oh, I hoped they'd show some sense! It's noble for
them to die for Christianity, but it won't do no good. By gum!
Heckewelder has pulled him back. Now, that's good judgment!"

Half King stepped before the Christians and addressed them. He held
in his hand a black war-club, which he wielded as he spoke.

Jonathan's attention was now directed from the maple grove to the
hunter beside him. He had heard a slight metallic click, as Wetzel
cocked his rifle. Then he saw the black barrel slowly rise.

"Listen, Lew. Mebbe it ain't good sense. We're after Girty, you
remember; and it's a long shot from here--full three hundred yards."

"You're right, Jack, you're right," answered Wetzel, breathing hard.

"Let's wait, and see what comes off."

"Jack, I can't do it. It'll make our job harder; but I can't help
it. I can put a bullet just over the Huron's left eye, an' I'm goin'
to do it."

"You can't do it, Lew; you can't! It's too far for any gun. Wai