He says, replied Tom, that you must help me split this log and that he will darken the sun until you light the fire about me. See, the sun darkens, the work of the Great Spirit has begun, and it will soon be night at noon-day. The sun was partially eclipsed and the Indians gazed with astonishment. Hawkeye seemed dumbfounded and stammered out: White man’s God great and powerful. How did he say Indian help? Tom replied: Get three on a side and pull when I strike the wedge. The Indians obeyed and arranged themselves three on each side of the log with their fingers in the crack of the log. We ready, strike the wedge, said Hawkeye. Tom struck; but instead of striking the wedge in, he struck it out, and the Indians were fast in the log as much so as if they had been screwed in a vice. Tom was jubilant. He now had the six Indians in his power and could kill them at his leisure. He gave one of his peculiar laughs and said: Ha! Ha! Mr. Indians, the white man’s God says more. He says you Indians must die. Look at the waning sun. When that becomes dark, you Indians will be in the Spirit world. It grows darker, darker. Your time has come—now you die. The eclipse was now nearly total, and Tom proceeded to the execution of his purpose; by knocking their brains out with the beetle. And then left for the house, leaving the Indians still fast in the log to become food for bears and wolves. CHAPTER XXIV. Killing a Buck with Seven Skins. Tom had a great many cabins or caves between the Water Gap and Shohola, and was never at a loss for a place to stay over night. But he usually wintered at the house of some mutual friend, and the terms upon which he stayed was that he should furnish the winter meat. Any family living on the border was anxious and willing to board him; for during his stay they were sure of being provided with plenty of game and living on the fat of the land. On one occasion winter set in earlier than usual and he did not have his usual supply of venison on hand to supply the table of the friend with whom he intended to winter. He made arrangements for a long hunt in a part of the country where he knew that game was plenty, and in a few days he would get sufficient to supply his friend’s cabin for a long time. The night before he intended to start, a friendly Indian called at the cabin and asked to stay over night, which was granted. Tom was suspicious, although the Indian appeared to be friendly. They soon became acquainted, and it was not long before they agreed to go on a hunt, Tom agreeing to take the venison for his part and the Indian the skins. Game was plenty, especially deer. In fact the woods seemed to be full of them. It was bang!—bang!—bang! and at every report a deer fell. They were soon skinned and the hind quarters hung up out of the reach of bears and wolves until Tom could get time to take them to the cabin.