squaw to take back with him
to his wigwam."

Charley silenced the embarrassed captain with a shake of his head.
"The chief is kind," he said, "but squaws are not as men, there would
be great enmity and hair-pulling between the white squaws and the red,
and when squaws quarrel the wigwam is sad for the warrior."

The chief nodded gravely. "The young white chief speaks truly," he
said.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

THE SEMINOLES.

The conversation on the part of the hunters had so far been conducted
by Charley. Walter had remained silent, busily thinking over the
wrongs that had been done them by the convicts. He could not forget
the still, cold form in the hut that had been robbed of life by the
murderers' bullets. He was not usually a vindictive boy, but, as he
thought of Ritter's noble act and sudden death, his passion steadily
grew and at last he turned scornfully to the young chief.

"Little Tiger speaks with the tongue of a man, but his deeds are those
of a squaw," he declared, bitterly. "Are he and his braves afraid of
the murderers of his people and the slayers of his father that they
leave them to escape in peace and safety?"

"They will not escape," said the young Indian, his face darkening with
anger at the savage taunt. "A man's death for a man, but jackals shall
die like jackals. With hearts of terror and blood turned to water in
their fear, they shall die a death more horrible than the palefaces can
give them."

"You have offended him, Walter," said Charley, as the young savage
walked proudly away. "Why couldn't you be more patient? I have felt
all along that he had some plan for dealing with the convicts."

"I suppose I have put my foot in it," said Walter regretfully, "but
it's no use crying about it now."

The Indians were already lighting fires and preparing breakfast, but
the hunters had a task before them which they felt they must perform
before they could touch food, and they immediately set about it.

In the shade of a majestic live oak, they dug a deep grave and in it
laid to rest the body of the unfortunate Ritter. Their eyes were moist
as the earth covered the remains of the young hero.

Little Tiger rose to meet them as they approached the group of Indians.

Walter walked up to him with outstretched hand. "I am sorry for my
angry, foolish words," he said. "When sorrow bears heavy on the heart,
the tongue grows bitter."

The young Seminole grasped the offered hand with evid