I should be glad of a sup from your cognac bottle." "Here it is, comrade, and welcome! Well, I may as well have this fine scalp that we may have something to show for our walk." He held the Indian's head between his knees, and in an instant, with a sweep of his knife, had torn off the hideous dripping trophy.
"Let us go!" cried De Catinat, turning away in disgust.
"Yes, we shall go! But I shall also have this wampum belt marked with the totem of the Bear.

So! And the gun too.

Look at the 'London' printed upon the lock.

Ah, Monsieur Green, Monsieur Green, it is not hard to see where the enemies of France get their arms." So at last they turned away, Du Lhut bearing his spoils, leaving the red grinning figure stretched under the silent trees.

As they passed on they caught a glimpse of the lad lying doubled up among the bushes where he had fallen.