“Haven’t we?” replied Hare, who was wild with excitement and alarm, drawing the only revolver in the party’s possession. “Put it up!” shouted Buffalo Bill. “Put it up!” repeated Captain Meinhold, “or, at least, do nothing more than show it, or you’ll draw down death upon all of us.” “Death is coming fast enough, in my opinion,” replied Hare. “I have a right to defend myself, and shall, and, perhaps, save all the rest of you.” There was great danger that the imprudent man would precipitate fatal results, and the captain and Buffalo Bill, who were not in the same boat with him, made signs to some of those who were, to disarm him. But, in the confusion, these gestures were misunderstood or disregarded. The canoes were already close at hand, and as the foremost drew near to the boat in which Hare sat, although the red men were bowing and smiling, and talking unintelligently, the frantic young man presented his revolver, shouting: “Keep off! Keep off! or I’ll fire!” The Indians could not have instantly stopped the headway of their canoe if they had wished. It still darted forward, and, amid cries of, “Don’t, Hare! Don’t! For Heaven’s sake, stop him!” two quick reports were heard, and one of the red men fell backward, paddle in hand, and lay stretched upon the bottom of the canoe. CHAPTER XXXIV. ARRESTED FOR MURDER. It was a terrible moment. A dozen guns came into sight and half of them were already presented and the click of the locks was heard on every side, when the still outstretched revolver was knocked from Hare’s hand into the lake by one of his companions, and the loud voice of Running Water arrested the leaden storm which in another instant would have dealt destruction upon the dismayed white men. But, although the guns were lowered at the chief’s command, they were not put down, and for some minutes there was a jargon of loud and angry words among the Indians, with fierce gestures and scowls, and it was evidently all that their leader could do to restrain them from taking instant vengeance for the outrage which had been inflicted upon them. Some raised and succored the man who had been shot, but his wound was evidently mortal, and as they tried to stanch the blood which flowed profusely from his breast, their wrath and grief broke out afresh and threatened to set the authority of their leader at defiance. Running Water, in fact, did not look much less indignant than his comrades, when, their clamor having abated, he turned toward Congo, and asked, in a mournful voice: “Why have my brothers done this?” Captain Meinhold was about replying, when Buffalo Bill laid his hand upon his arm and said: “Wait! Let Joe be our spokesman, since he has already done so well. Tell him the truth, Joe, and see that the whole blame falls where it belongs.” The chief repeated his question, and Joe, getting as near to him as he could, replied, rubbing his eyes: