ir," said Law, dropping his own sword upon the grass and
extending his hand with a broken smile, "'tis I who am your prisoner!"

CHAPTER XI

THE IROQUOIS

Even as Sir Arthur and John Law clasped hands, there came a sudden
interruption. A half-score yards deeper in the wood there arose a
sudden, half-choked cry, followed by a shrill whoop. There was a
crashing as of one running, and immediately there pressed into the open
space the figure of an Indian, an old man from the village of the
Illini. Even as his staggering footsteps brought him within gaze, the
two startled observers saw the shaft which had sunk deep within his
breast. He had been shot through by an Indian arrow, and upon the
instant it was all too plain whose hand had sped the shaft. Following
close upon his heels there came a stalwart savage, whose face, hideously
painted, appeared fairly demoniacal as he came bounding on with uplifted
hatchet, seeking to strike down the victim already impaled by the silent
arrow.

"Quick!" cried Law, in a flash catching the meaning of this sudden
spectacle. "Into the fort, Sir Arthur, and call the men together!"

Not stopping to relieve the struggles of the victim, who had now fallen
forward gasping, Law sprang on with drawn blade to meet the advancing
savage. The latter paused for an uncertain moment, and then with a
shrill yell of defiance, hurled the keen steel hatchet full at Law's
head. It shore away a piece of his hat brim, and sank with edge deep
buried in the trunk of a tree beyond. The savage turned, but turned too
late. The blade of the swordsman passed through from rib to rib under
his arm, and he fell choking, even as he sought again to give vent to
his war-cry.

And now there arose in the woods beyond, and in the fields below the
hill, and from the villages of the neighboring Indians, a series of
sharp, ululating yells. Shots came from within the fortress, where the
loop-holes were already manned. There were borne from the nearest
wigwams of the Illini the screams of wounded men, the shrieks of
terrified women. In an instant the peaceful spot had become the scene of
a horrible confusion. Once more the wolves of the woods, the Iroquois,
had fallen on their prey!

Swift as had been Law's movements, Pembroke was but a pace behind him as
he wrenched free his blade. The two turned back together and started at
speed for the palisade. At the gate they met others hurrying in,
Pembroke's men joining in