Where the man who had stood beside him had fallen, a number of warriors from both sides were wrangling.

A Queres lay dead on the dead body of a Tehua whose scalp he had intended to secure.

Two of his brethren were defending his corpse against half a dozen Tehuas.

Tyope's right wrist had been paralyzed by the arrow-shot, but he raised his arm and flung the war-club that dangled from it against the head of the nearest foe.
The blow was too feeble, and Tyope grabbed the man's hair.

Arrows whizzed and shrieked past the fighting group; shrill yells and wild howling sounded from every quarter.