Hewitt regarded the renegade with a calm look, as he strode forward, hissing his triumph from between clenched teeth. “I told you so, you giant white dog. Now for a square inch of your accursed hide.” The ragged blade descended; it had touched Hewitt’s breast, and was red with his blood, when a shout greeted the renegade’s ears. “Alaska!” A frightful oath, that would have shamed devils, shot from Jim Girty’s lips, and, as he turned with crimsoned blade, he saw the crowd making way for the mad queen, clothed in a passion born in Pandemonium. He turned to the Prophet with a mute appeal for aid, but Laulewasikaw shrunk from the crazy woman, and hid himself behind a tree. The Shawnees had never beheld Alaska in such a frenzy and, with shrieks, they fled from her, as though she were living contagion. Even the bravest warrior fled like a frightened deer, and the forest resounded with flying footsteps. Jim Girty could not fly. The sight of the mad-woman riveted him to the spot, and his knees smote one another, even as Belshazzar’s smote at his doom on the palace walls. Suddenly at his feet Alaska threw the poisoned wolves, and fastened her gaze upon his icy face, where cold sweatdrops were forming. “The White Chief sent Newaska with poisoned meat to Alaska’s lodge!” she hissed. “There lies Newaska’s work! The red snake lies in Alaska’s wigwam, with great holes in his throat.” As she spoke, she neared Girty, holding a writhing wolf above her head. “Letheto’s fangs shall kiss each other in White Chief’s throat!” she continued, and the wolf was lowered. With his eyes starting from their sockets, Girty, devoid of volition, awaited his doom. The wolf’s hot breath almost scorched his face, and, as the jaws flew open to close on his throat, Tecumseh sprung to Alaska’s side. The renegade drew a breath of relief. “Alaska must not slay the White Chief,” said the sachem, calmly meeting the fiery gaze she shot at him. “Why?” “Long ago he snatched Tecumseh’s son from the waves of the Scioto.” Almost instantly the frenzy abated, which was a wonderful proof of the influence Tecumseh possessed over poor, mad Alaska. “Alaska loves Tecumseh,” she said; “but the captives?” and her eyes fell upon the trio at the trees. Tecumseh’s gaze followed the mad queen’s, but he said nothing. “Let them be Alaska’s prisoners,” suddenly cried the Wolf-Queen. “Let them return to the strong lodge, and when Alaska has mourned for her two children, killed by Newaska, she will deal with them.” “Thus it shall be,” said Tecumseh, and, at his command, the three prisoners were taken from the stakes. Theirs was a miraculous escape, and Hewitt saw a kind light in Tecumseh’s eyes, as he turned toward the village. Unknown to the renegade, Tecumseh and his body-guard of tried braves had glided into the forest, for the purpose, if it were possible, to save the captives from the terrible death, so against his feelings.