Beads of perspiration stood on the brow of the Onondago, but his eyes glittered.
"You have shot well tonight, O Dagaeoga," he said.

"Never did a man shoot better.

Tonight you have been the greatest bowman in all the world.

You have slain the demon wolf, the leader of the pack.

Perhaps the wicked soul that inhabited his body has gone to inhabit the body of another evil brute, but we are delivered.