He strove to raise his hand in menace, but it fell to the ground; and, with a groan of suppressed agony, he expired. The fight was raging with unabated violence, and the conflagration had already spread to the farthest end of the fortress. Henrich looked around for his comrades, who were bravely contending with their powerful foes at some distance, and he hastily prepared to join them. But, as he turned away, he courteously waved his hand to Rodolph, and said in the English language, but with an Indian accent, 'Farewell, brave Englishman!' Rodolph started. That voice had thrilled through his heart when it had spoken a strange language: but now it struck upon him with a sense of familiarity that be could not account for, as the Indian Chief was evidently an utter stranger to him. He returned his parting salutation and 'farewell'; but still he watched his retreating form, and thought he distinctly heard him utter the name 'Rodolph!' as a large dog, which had stood near him during their brief encounter, bounded after him over foe heaps of slain and dying. 'Surely it was my own fancy that conjured up that name,' thought Rodolph. The next moment he found himself compelled again to join the conflict, and, at the head of his little band, to fight his way out of the fortress, which was rapidly becoming a prey to the devouring flames. All the English withdrew outside the palisades, and thickly surrounded the fort; while their Indian allies, who had hitherto kept aloof, now took courage to approach, and form a second circle outside. The most furious despair now took possession of the souls of the devoted Pequodees: and their terrible war-cry was heard resounding high, and mingled with the agonising yells of the women and children, and helpless aged men, who were expiring amid the flames. Many of the warriors climbed the palisades, and leaped down among their foes, hoping to escape; but they were quickly despatched by the muskets and bayonets of the English; or if any had power to break through the first hostile line, they fell beneath the battle-axes of the Mohicans. Rodolph had received a considerable wound, but it had not entirely disabled him. At the head of his men he passed through the open gate of the fortress, and attempted still to lead and command them. He found, however that his strength was failing, and that he could no longer wield his good broad sword. He therefore stood leaning on it, and watching, with mingled feelings of pity and horror, the progress of the work of destruction. Presently he saw a side entrance to the fort thrown suddenly open, and the form of the Indian Chief--whose tomahawk had saved his life, and whose voice had awakened such strange feelings--appeared rushing forth. He was attended by another striking looking warrior, and followed by a band of determined natives, who were resolved to escape, or sell their lives dearly.