his step he hoped to disarm suspicion; but he forgot the _bitten_
_ball_.

It was therefore a look of genuine surprise that rose to Darkeye's
visage, when, the moment he entered the fort, Mr Pemberton seized him
by the right arm, and led him into the hall.

At first he attempted to seize the handle of his knife, but a glance at
the numbers of the white men, and the indifference of his own friends,
showed him that his best chance lay in cunning.

The Indians who had arrived with him were soon informed by the others of
the cause of this, and all of them crowded into the hall to watch the
proceedings. The body of poor Laroche was laid on a table, and Darkeye
was led up to it. The cunning Indian put on a pretended look of
surprise on beholding it, and then the usual expression of stolid
gravity settled on his face as he turned to Mr Pemberton for
information.

"_Your_ hand did this," said the fur-trader.

"Is Darkeye a dog that he should slay an old man?" said the savage.

"No, you're not a dog," cried Jasper fiercely; "you are worse--a
cowardly murderer?"

"Stand back, Jasper," said Mr Pemberton, laying his hand on the
shoulder of the excited hunter, and thrusting him firmly away. "This is
a serious charge. The Indian shall not be hastily condemned. He shall
have fair play, and _justice_."

"Good!" cried several of the Indians on hearing this. Meanwhile the
principal chief of the tribe took up his stand close beside the
prisoner.

"Darkeye," said Mr Pemberton, while he looked steadfastly into the eyes
of the Indian, who returned the look as steadily--"Darkeye, do you
remember a conversation you had many weeks ago in the trading store at
Jasper's House?"

The countenance of the Indian was instantly troubled, and he said with
some hesitation, "Darkeye has had many conversations in that store; is
he a medicine-man [a conjurer] that he should know what you mean?"

"I will only put one other question," said the fur-trader. "Do you know
this bullet _with_ _the_ _marks_ _of_ _teeth_ in it?"

Darkeye's visage fell at once. He became deadly pale, and his limbs
trembled. He was about to speak when the chief, who had hitherto stood
in silence at his side, suddenly whirled his tomahawk in the air, and,
bringing it down on the murderer's skull, cleft him to the chin!

A fierce yell followed this act, and several scalping knives reached the
dead man's heart before his body fell to the ground. The scene that
fo