He saw again Wetzel's shadowy form darting like a demon into the whirl of conflict; he heard again that hoarse, booming roar with which the Avenger accompanied his blows.

Joe's gaze swept the glade, but found no trace of the hunter.
He saw Silvertip and another Indian bathing a wound on Girty's head.
The renegade groaned and writhed in pain.

Near him lay Kate, with white face and closed eyes.

She was unconscious, or dead.

Jim sat crouched under a tree to which he was tied.
"Joe, are you badly hurt ?" asked the latter, in deep solicitude.
"No, I guess not; I don't know," answered Joe.