“Of all who participated in that dark night’s work, but three are left: yourself, Turkey-foot, and Joe Girty, the white dog, for in the woods, this night we have met and slain the wolf’s whelp, Leather-lips. Not one has died a natural death--all have fallen by my hand--these fingers have torn their black scalps from their heads. Your time is here, and as you are the bravest chief in the red tribe, I grant you what I have granted to no red-man--time to sing his death-song. Therefore, Wacomet, soon to see Watchemenetoc, if you would, sing while there is yet time.” The Girl Avenger spoke in the Ottawa tongue, but not a muscle moved on the doomed chief’s face. He knew that his last hour had come, knew, too, that his doom was just, and presently from his lips pealed the first notes of his death-song. He did not make it tedious; in few words, he recounted his warlike deeds, craved a corner in the Manitou’s lodge, besought victory for his countrymen again Wayne, regretted that he could not prove a red whirlwind against the pale-faces in the coming struggle, and then closed. The avenger of her slaughtered race glanced at Kenowatha, as the chief finished, then her gaze flitted along the glistening barrel, and a report no louder than the bursting of a percussion-cap broke the stillness, and Wacomet was with his fathers! “But two left!” she murmured, as she turned to Kenowatha, “and ere many hours they, too, will be gone. But, boy, we must rouse that girl and gain from her all the information we can about Effie and that villainous major. I scarcely doubt but that ere this he has struck the Canada trail.” A moment later the twain bent over senseless Ewana, whom they at length restored to herself. “Speak fast, Ewana,” said Nanette. “Where are the White Rose and the red-coat?” “In the great woods going toward the homes of the king’s white people,” was the reply, when the girl recovered from her astonishment, at seeing the two forms bending over her. “When did they leave, Ewana?” “Just before Wacomet came to his cave. What! is _he_ dead?” and her eyes flashed with triumph, when they fell upon the motionless form of the Ottawa. “Then Ewana can go back and kiss her old father before he dies.” The death of the chief whom she once loved now seemed a relief to the poor red girl. “We must leave Ewana,” said Nanette, “and she can now go back to her parents. We seek the White Rose and the red-coated dog.” The Indian girl stretched forth her hands, the youthful avengers grasped them in a silent, fervent pressure, and left her alone with her dead chief. “They can not be far away,” said the Girl Avenger, as she and Kenowatha glided through the dark corridor. “We will soon overtake them, and should the red-coat raise his hand against us or the girl, there’ll be no hanging in Fort Miami. I’m so glad that it is broad daylight now, for we can follow their trail faster than they can travel.” CHAPTER XIV. WHAT HAPPENED IN A RAVINE.