Ever and anon they paused to gather breath, though they panted rather than breathed, and their eyes glared into each other, as the rage of conflict and lust of destruction grew in their hearts--Wodrow the while feeling that every moment was to him most precious, as he knew not what succour or comrades his foe might have at hand. He hewed, slashed, and thrust away, but there was no circumventing the use of that pestilent little iron shield, which rang and emitted red sparks beneath his strokes, and which there seemed no means of getting over, under, or round about. The Ghilzie warrior was compelled, by the activity and desperation of Wodrow's attack, to stand more on the defensive than he expected, and his mountain blood waxed hot. Drawing back a pace or two, he hurled three pistols in succession, which he snatched from his girdle, at the head of Wodrow, who adroitly 'dodged' them, and suddenly closing, struck the Ghilzie's tulwar from his hand to the distance of some yards. The sudden wrench this action occasioned his wrist disconcerted him, and Wodrow's sword having completed the sweep of the stroke, was descending on his head ere he had time to draw the deadly _charah_ which, among other weapons, was stuck in his girdle, when up went the tiny shield, and in saving his head he left his face exposed, and right into it Robert Wodrow planted his clenched hand with such force and fury that the Ghilzie stumbled backward, and in falling was twice run through the body and slain. Choking in blood, his last words were: 'I am gone. Oh, place my feet towards the Keblah.' Robert Wodrow felt neither pity nor remorse just then, as his blood was boiling in fever-heat, and the Ghilzie had sought his own destruction. The victor cast a rapid and furtive glance around him, and then hurried on his way. Save the dead man, no other enemy was in sight. In a little time Wodrow looked back to the place where the Ghilzie lay, and already he could see hovering over the latter in mid-air several great black vultures wheeling in circles prior to swooping down to begin their horrible banquet. That his disguise had been seen through by this unfortunate fellow greatly disconcerted Robert Wodrow, and deprived him of much of the confidence he had hitherto possessed, and he thought of travelling only by night, and lurking in the woods or among rocks by day; but his ignorance of the country, and the necessity of studying such landmarks as he remembered, and keeping to the beaten path as much as possible, together with the necessity for procuring food at all risks, compelled him to relinquish the idea.