So saying, he raised the rifle to his shoulder and fired. The eyes of the Solitary had been intently fastened upon every motion of his foe, and, the instant before the gun was discharged, he threw his arms violently into the air. Whether the gesture disconcerted the aim of the Indian, or intemperance had weakened his nerves, the rifle was aimed too high and failed of its mark. But Holden's escape was extremely narrow. The bullet grazed his scalp, perforating the cap, and throwing it from his head. In the colloquy, he had, probably, determined upon his line of conduct; for, immediately, upon the flash, he started, with an activity which his appearance hardly promised, towards his antagonist, and before the latter could club his rifle or draw a knife, had seized him around the waist, and strove to throw him on the ground. The Indian dropped the useless gun, and returned the death-grapple. "Child of the devil!" cried Holden, whose passions were now thoroughly roused, and who fancied himself back again to the time when he fought the red man of the West, "I will send thee, this day, to the place appointed for thee." Ohquamehud answered not a word, but, straining the other in an embrace as close as his own, summoned all his powers to the deadly struggle. The two were more equally matched than might at first be supposed. The Indian was more active, but Holden was stronger, and towered above him. The habits of Holden had been eminently conducive to health and strength. There was no superfluous flesh about him, and his sinews were like cord. But, on the other hand, the youth of the Indian was a great advantage, promising an endurance beyond that to be expected from one of the years of Holden.