Blood flowed over his fingers and hands.

Then he grasped the gray hair, planted himself with both feet on the neck, and pulled until the scalp was wrenched off and dangled in his fist.

Over the bare skull numberless fillets of blood began to trickle, at once changing the face and neck of the dead into a red mass.

Then he turned to the other, nodded, and said,-- "It is well." Nacaytzusle turned his eyes upon the dead, and replied in a hoarse voice,-- "It is well." He scanned the surroundings suspiciously.
"Thou hast done well, very well," he said to the murderer.

"Thou art strong and cunning.