“Yes, sweet Annette, my mission--my secret mission in the west will now be ended, and then for the Golden Horn! But, I must have one man’s life before I go, the life of Old Tumult, the hunter. I could never rest easy--not even in the grave--without revenge upon that giant. I know he is shut up on one of the Two Islands, if he and his young friend, Farnesworth, have not been washed away by the flood. Ha! ha! ha! that escape from the island last night with the two maidens was nicely made, fair Annette!” The villain went on with his talk, like one speaking to himself, or an imaginary person. He seemed totally unconscious of Madge’s presence. “You are surely out of your wits, great prophet of the Arapahoes,” said the trader’s daughter, sneeringly. “No, no; only indulging in a bit of self-communion, Miss Taft,” he replied; “but, by the gods, I will have the life of Old Tumult! To-morrow Clara shall be my wife, and then for the Golden Horn and long life, my sweet Cecil!” As the handsome villain concluded his wild soliloquy, he turned and went out of the lodge. When she found herself alone, Madge threw herself upon the couch of skins, and burst into a fit of hysterical laughter which ended in an outburst of tears. Dick Sherwood, burning with a desire for revenge upon Old Tumult, and conscious of his inability to cope with him in physical strength, selected five of the best warriors in the tribe and set off for Two Islands, determined to capture the old scout at all hazards, dead or alive. Besides, the warriors that accompanied him were stimulated by a handsome reward, offered by their chief, for the scalp of their most terrible enemy, Old Tumult, the hunter and scout. CHAPTER IX. A STARTLING SURPRISE. As the voice of Sherwood rolled across the water in his demand for the surrender of Old Tumult and Town., the old scout burst into a roar of laughter that fairly shook the tree in which he was perched; then, in a tone peculiar to his powerful lungs, he requested the renegade to go to--that very warm region prepared for the wicked. The enemy were above them, where they could avail themselves of the force of the current, and no sooner did they hear the old scout’s reply, than they began bearing down toward them at a rapid speed. Our friends could see that the enemy were armed with rifles, but, as they did not fire upon them, they knew the distance was too great for the range of a common firearm, they--the enemy--being over two hundred yards above them. “Death is a dead certainty with us now, Tumult,” said Town. “Things look kinder scaly, lad, but I’m thinkin’ that ’ere essence o’ Satan has miscalculated our situation; or else they don’t know as how old Vibrator here can flip lead--that _we_’ve got rifles, too.” “But the rain has made my rifle perfectly useless, Tumult, and my ammunition is soaking wet,” said Town., regretfully.