It was the Comanche chief, who brandished the bleeding scalp of the pirate. But the latter was not dead. Almost mad with pain and fury, and blinded with the blood which trickled into his eyes, he arose and rushed upon his adversary, who had no expectation of such an attack. Then, with limbs entwined, each endeavoured, by strength and artifice, to throw his antagonist, and plunge into his body the knife with which he was armed. Several hunters sprang forward to separate them, but when they reached them all was over. The captain lay upon the ground with the knife of Eagle Head buried to the hilt in his heart. The pirates, held in awe by the white hunters and the Indian warriors who surrounded them, did not attempt a resistance, which they knew would be useless. When he saw his captain fall, Frank, in the name of his companions, proclaimed that they surrendered. At a signal from Loyal Heart they laid down their arms and were bound. Belhumeur, the brave Canadian, whose devotedness had saved the life of his friend, had received a serious wound, but, happily, it was not mortal. He had been instantly lifted up and carried into the grotto, where the mother of the hunter paid him every attention. Eagle Head approached Loyal Heart, who stood pensive and silent, leaning against a tree. "The chiefs are assembled round the fire of council," he said, "and await my brother." "I follow, my brother," the hunter replied, laconically. When the two men entered the hut, all the chiefs were assembled; among them were the general, Black Elk, and several other trappers. The calumet was brought into the middle of the circle by the pipe bearer; he bowed respectfully towards the four cardinal points, and then presented the long tube to every chief in his turn. When the calumet had made the round of the circle, the pipe bearer emptied the ashes into the fire, murmuring some mystic words, and then retired. Then the old chief named the Sun, arose, and after saluting the members of the council, said--