“I understand you—you devil incarnate!” Ross answered in a voice hoarse with rage. “Do your worst! You shall not lay your vile hands upon this pure being, as long as the breath of life is spared me!” “Which won’t be very long!” Hilliard muttered with an oath. Farley and Bright Wing set their teeth and calmly awaited the attack. Ross turned to his father and asked: “What can we do?” “Fight to the death!” was the cool and determined reply. Slipping an arm around La Violette’s waist, Ross whispered: “Good-by, darling! Lie down behind that mound, out of the way of flying bullets. As soon as the first discharge of firearms is over, run toward the boat at the top of your speed. If I escape death, I’ll rejoin you there.” She was very pale; and her limbs were trembling. But she replied firmly: “I will not leave your side, Ross. If you must die, I die with you!” The soldiers on the shore had been witnesses of the whole proceeding. At the distance, they could not tell what was going on; but knowing that something was amiss, and fearing the worst, a number of them had left the boat and started toward the scene of disturbance. Now they came running at full speed along the bank. The Wyandot’s quick eyes caught sight of them and he grunted: “Palefaces come—heap many. Ugh!” “That’s a fact, Injin!” Farley muttered in reply. “If we can only hold the red devils off till——” Ross Douglas was anxiously watching the actions of the savages. Suddenly he saw them quit talking and make a move to encircle their victims. An inspiration came to him. Taking a step forward, he raised his right hand and cried in ringing tones: “Children of Tenskwatawa!” The attention of the Indians was arrested. They stopped and stared hard at the speaker. “Behold the Sign of the Prophet!” Ross shouted. At the same time, he slowly waved his hand to and fro, and, imitating the sinuous movements of the red hypnotist, advanced upon the semicircle of warriors. The effect was marvelous. “The Sign of the Prophet! The Sign of the Prophet!” they wailed in terrified accents, shrinking away from him—their eyes immovably fixed upon the talisman. For a moment George Hilliard was dumbfounded. He could not understand what was happening. Realizing that Ross, in some way, was sending terror to the hearts of the red fiends, the thick-set villain’s face grew purple with rage. He stormed and raved. But all to no purpose; the savages were spellbound—they could not hear his voice. Slowly advancing—and continuing his serpentine movements—Ross continued: “Children of the Prophet, I wear his sign—I have his power! I am doing the will of the Great Spirit. Away—away! Go—ere I strike you blind——” “Curse you, Ross Douglas! _I’ll_ strike you blind!” Hilliard howled frantically.