Paul was filled with curiosity, and he watched everything.
The warriors emerged from the last fringe of the forest, their faces blackened, the hideous chant for their lost rising and falling, but never ceasing.

Forward to meet them poured a mongrel throng--old men, old squaws, children, mangy curs, and a few warriors.

Paul was with Red Eagle, and when the old squaws saw him, they stopped their plaintive howl and sent up a sudden shrill note of triumph.

In a moment Paul was in a ring of ghastly old faces, in every one of which snapped a pair of cruel black eyes.

Then the old women began to push him about, to pinch him, and to strike him, and they showed incredible activity.
Thoroughly angry and in much pain, Paul struck at the hideous hags; but they leaped away, jabbered and laughed, and returned to the attack.