without the pale of the English protection. One had repudiated the
government, declaring himself an Irishman, a nationality then unknown to
the Cherokees. The other was French,--no reprisal for his sake was
possible to a tribe under British allegiance. Death it must
be!--doubtless with all the pomp and circumstance of the torture, for
from the standpoint of the Indians they had requited hospitality with
robbery. Death was inevitable,--unless they could now escape. Had they
but one weapon between them they might yet make good their flight.

An Irishman rarely stops to count the odds. With the thought O'Kimmon,
heavy, muscular, yet alert, threw himself upon Oo-koo-koo, and in an
instant he had almost wrenched the knife from the Indian's belt.

The other Cherokee cried warningly, "_Akee-rooka! Akee-rooka_!" (I will
shoot!) Then drew his pistol and fired.

The next moment, perhaps for many moments thereafter, none of them knew
very definitely what had happened. There was a cloud of dust, a terrific
detonation, a sudden absolute darkness, as in some revulsion of nature,
a stifling sensation. They were penned within the grotto by a great
fragment of the beetling cliff. Doubtless it had been previously
fractured by the action of continuous freezes, and the concussion of the
pistol shot in the restricted space of the cave below had brought it
down.

The days went on. The men were missed after a time, but a considerable
interval had elapsed. The two strangers had of late kept themselves much
apart, owing to their absorption and their covert methods of seeking for
gold. It was an ill-ordered, roaming, sylvan life they led at best. The
cheera-taghe, although "beloved men" and priests of their strange and