"Yonder!" cried Seguin, "yonder are scalps enough to satisfy you; but let us see to our own. Come! to your horses! On with the atajo! I will keep my word with you at the pass. Mount! my brave fellows, mount!" The last speech was uttered in a tone of reconciliation; but it needed not that to quicken the movements of the hunters. They knew too well their own danger. They could have sustained the attack among the houses, but it would only have been until the return of the main tribe, when they knew that every life would be taken. To make a stand at the town would be madness, and was not thought of. In a moment we were in our saddles; and the atajo, strung out with the captives and provisions, was hurrying off toward the woods. We purposed passing the defile that opened eastward, as our retreat by the other route was now cut off by the advancing horsemen. Seguin had thrown himself at the head, leading the mule upon which his daughter was mounted. The rest followed, straggling over the plain without rank or order. I was among the last to leave the town. I had lingered behind purposely, fearing some outrage, and determined, if possible, to prevent it. "At length," thought I, "they have all gone!" and putting spurs to my horse, I galloped after. When I had ridden about a hundred yards from the walls, a loud yell rang behind me; and, reining in my horse, I turned in the saddle and looked back. Another yell, wild and savage, directed me to the point whence the former had come. On the highest roof of the temple two men were struggling. I knew them at a glance; and I knew, too, it was a death-struggle. One was the medicine chief, as I could tell by the flowing, white hair. The scanty skirt and leggings, the naked ankles, the close-fitting skull-cap, enabled me easily to distinguish his antagonist. It was the earless trapper! The conflict was a short one. I had not seen the beginning of it, but I soon witnessed the denouement. As I turned, the trapper had forced his adversary against the parapet, and with his long, muscular arm was bending him over its edge. In the other hand, uplifted, he brandished his knife! I saw a quick flash as the blade was plunged; a red gush spurted over the garments of the Indian; his arms dropped, his body doubled over the wall, balanced a moment, and then fell with a dull, sodden sound upon the terrace below! The same wild whoop again rang in my ears, and the hunter disappeared from the root. I turned to ride on. I knew it was the settling of some old account, the winding up of some terrible revenge. The clattering of hoofs sounded behind me, and a horseman rode up alongside. I knew, without turning my head, that it was the trapper. "Fair swop, they say, ain't no stealin'. Putty har, too, it ur. Wagh! It won't neyther match nor patch mine; but it makes one's feelin's easier."