[Betty Zane by Zane Grey]@TWC D-Link book
Betty Zane

CHAPTER XI
82/100

At last his dark form rose and stood over the unconscious Indians, like a minister of Doom.

The tomahawk flashed once, twice in the firelight, and the Indians, without a moan, and with a convulsive quivering and straightening of their bodies, passed from the tired sleep of nature to the eternal sleep of death.
Foregoing his usual custom of taking the scalps, Wetzel hurriedly left the glade.

He had found that the Indians were Shawnees and he had expected they were Delawares.

He knew Miller's red comrades belonged to the latter tribe.

The presence of Shawnees so near the settlement confirmed his belief that a concerted movement was to be made on the whites in the near future.


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