The Indian finding himself thus surrounded, did not hesitate an instant. On one side was the precipice--on all other sides, the infuriated soldiery, thirsting for his blood. Quick as thought he sprang for the oak. Down its body and branches he ran, like a squirrel skipping from twig to twig. "Fire!" shouted Price. "Our pieces have all been discharged at the other spy. We must load." "Well, quick--quick, or he will escape. By heavens, look!" The Indian had reached the extreme branches of the declining oak. He paused an instant and then sprang for the tree below. It was a fearful leap. But he succeeded in grasping one of the topmost branches. His weight bent the frail limb, and before he could grasp another, it had broken, and his form went whirling through the air. But his form was checked by striking one of the main limbs, and with an effort he secured a firmer hold. In an instant he had reached the body of the tree, and was safe. As he reached the base of the ledge, he turned and cried: "Price--me meet you again!" CHAPTER II. _The Meeting--The tale of Wrong and Blood--The Avenger--The Oath--The Mountain Maid--The Lover._ Oh, I could play the woman with mine eyes, and braggart with my tongue. But gentle heaven, cut short all intermission, Front to front bring thou this fiend of Scotland and myself, Within my sword's length set him; if he 'scape, Heaven forgive him too.--_Shakespeare._ When Fall-leaf reached the ground he started for the river, pursuing his way cautiously, but rapidly. Ever and anon he would pause and listen. It was evident he was pursued by the party from whom he had just escaped, but, as he passed along, their shouts were received only by a scornful curl of his bronze lip. But he soon found more difficult objects with which to contend. As he emerged into an open space, he came suddenly upon the party under the command of Rains. He was not at once discovered. Bending to the earth, he crept cautiously along, concealing himself as best he could, by the under brush and tall grass. But he was not long to remain undiscovered. One of the rebel party, having espied the object of their pursuit, raised his rifle, and as its report rang through the forest, it was answered by a sharp cry of the Indian, who sprang into the air, and fell backward. In an instant he was surrounded. Upon examination it was found that the bullet had penetrated his breast, rendering a dangerous, if not fatal wound, from which the blood was flowing profusely. He was quite conscious, but unable to move or speak. "Shall I send a bullet through his brain?" asked one of the rebel band. "It is unnecessary. That ugly wound in the breast will soon end him. But stay. His tribe must not know of his death. Throw him into that hole by yonder rock, then fill it up with stone and dirt."