He gripped the red hand in his own.

"I'll kill, Mukoki.

I'll kill him dead--in one shot!" They could hear the voices of the outlaws now, and soon they saw that Wabi's face was disfigured with blood.
Step by step, slowly and carelessly, the Woongas approached.

They were fifty yards from the marked birch now--forty--thirty--now only ten.
Roderick's rifle was at his shoulder.

Already it held a deadly bead on the breast of the leader.
Five yards more-- The outlaw passed behind the tree; he came out, and the young hunter pressed the trigger.