With a yell of delight the men sprang forward. In five minutes the six kegs were surrounded by a grunting, struggling mass of Miamis, the squaws standing to one side and eating strips of dried venison which the raiders handed out freely. Norton and Red Hugh lay side by side on the sacks. Grigg stood with Kitty, a few feet distant, and between them was the tall Indian, his blanket drawn over his head. Grigg urged him to drink, but he refused with a guttural negation, meeting with no more importunity. Indeed, the whites were drinking with as much abandon as the warriors, save for Duval and Grigg alone. A few moments later the warriors were shoved back from the kegs and their knives and tomahawks removed to the pile of rifles beside the door. Then one of the gang stepped in and by dint of some rough horse-play, highly amusing to his comrades, provoked two of the red men into a rough and tumble fight. Within five minutes the whole group of warriors was engaged in a frenzied scuffle, amid roars of laughter from the watchers. In their drunken awkwardness they did little damage, and every eye watched save that of Kitty; she had covered her face with her hands and stood trembling. "Give 'em more licker!" roared Grigg suddenly, and rushed across the floor. No sooner had he moved than the tall Indian took one swift step toward Norton. A knife flamed in his hand, and the startled Louisianian contracted shrinkingly. Then the knife had severed the cords at his ankles, and he looked into the face of Tecumthe. "Be quiet!" warned the chief in English. CHAPTER XV Norton lay in paralysed amazement while his wrists were freed, and Tecumthe turned to Red Hugh. The Indian, wasting no time on questions, seemed quite conversant with the whole situation. "Be ready," he whispered rapidly. "Take the young woman from the door when I strike!" Red Hugh grunted, and Tecumthe once more assumed his negligent attitude as Grigg returned across the floor. Norton's wild surge of astonished delight soon passed. The thick moccasins had protected his ankles to some extent, but his hands were for the moment useless, all circulation stopped by the tight thongs. After all, Tecumthe could do little against this murderous gang by himself. How, then, did he intend to "strike"? Did he have a band of his warriors outside? "It wasn't such a wild shot about those moccasins after all," came Red Hugh's chuckling whisper. "Looks like he's going to give us a chance to slip away. Work your arms a bit." The Louisianian nodded, and very slowly perceived life creeping back into his numbed hands. Grigg and the rest were roaring at the antics of the drunken, fighting Miamis; Duval, perched on a big hogshead at the far end of the room, was inciting them to further efforts.