A heart-chilling shriek welled from Alaska’s throat, as she sprung forward and pressed the dead wolf to her bosom. A moment she gazed wildly around, as if searching for the mysterious slayer, and then, with an indescribable horror of countenance, she darted from the tragic spot, followed by her wolves, Tecumseh and his braves. It was the first time that Tecumseh ever turned his back upon the foe. Convulsively to her heart the crazy queen pressed Leperto. She tried to stanch his crimson tide with her long tresses, but it seemed to flow the faster, and her trail was one of gore. “Not long will Tecumseh remain in his beaded lodge,” hissed the great chief to a plumed Indian, at whose side he ran. “He will return, and hunger shall drive the pale ones, with the red traitor, from the hole in the ground, and the blood of Sagasto and Nethoto shall be poured upon their heads.” The mad-woman thought of nothing but her dead wolf; but very soon other and more terrible thoughts would rule her shattered brain. CHAPTER VI. OUT OF THE CAVE TO DOOM. During the brief siege described in the foregoing chapter, but two persons occupied the cave. These were Mayne Fairfax and the beautiful Eudora Morriston. The young hunter reclined on the couch, and Eudora sat beside him, holding one of his hands in hers. “I wonder how this will end, Mayne,” she said, gazing into his deep eyes, that never grew weary of gazing into her face. “I do not know, Eudora,” replied the hunter; “but I feel that the end is not far distant. The capitulation of the hermit’s fort, in my mind, is but a question of time. If Tecumseh can not burn the door, he can starve us out. But hark, girl! That sounded like a rifle shot.” “And that shriek, Mayne!” cried the girl. “An Indian has fallen beneath the Lone Man’s rifle. Perhaps it was Tecumseh?” “No, no, Eudora. Hewitt did not fire that shot. He sheds the blood of no fellow-man. If an Indian fell, it was beneath Oonalooska’s aim. Listen! That was the voice of Tecumseh.” The conversation ceased, and in the silence that followed the lovers heard the second shot, that sent Nethoto to the earth. “Another!” cried Eudora. “Where do the shots come from, Mayne?” “From the top of a giant oak,” answered the young hunter. “Yon subterranean passage ends beneath the trunk of a great, hollow tree. Inside, steps lead to the top of the giant, from whence Oonalooska is smiting the red men.” “What a singular man the hermit is!” cried Eudora, as the faint tones of the Wolf-Queen--faint to the cave listeners--came from the wood. “He is a mystery to the savages. Girty hates, but fears him, and, to Tecumseh, he is an enigma. I--” “The third shot!” interrupted Mayne, and a minute later the giant hermit stepped into the cave. “Our enemies are routed,” he said, bestowing a smile upon the lovers. “Beneath Oonalooska’s rifle fell two chiefs and Leperto.”