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Buchan, John, 1875-1940

"Salute to Adventurers"


The whole clan was waiting, a hundred warriors as tall and clean-limbed
as any captain could desire. I bore no ill-will to my captors; indeed,
I viewed them with a respect I had never felt for Indians before. They
were so free in their walk, so slim and upstanding, so hawklike in eye
and feature, and withal so grave, that I could not but admire them. If
the Tidewater was to perish, 'twould be at the hands of no unworthy
foes.
A man stood out from the others, a tall savage with a hard face, who
looked at me with eyes of hate. I recognized my opponent, whom the
chief called by some name like Mayoga.
Before us on the hill-side across the stream was a wood, with its
limits cut as clear on the meadow as a coppice in a nobleman's park.
'Twas maybe half a mile long as it stretched up the slope, and about
the same at its greatest width. The shape was like a stout bean with a
hollow on one side, and down the middle ran the gorge of a mountain
stream.
Onotawah pointed to the wood. "Hearken, brother, to the customs of our
race in such combats. In that thicket the twain of you fight. Mayoga
will enter at one end and you at the other, and once among the trees it
is his business to slay you as he pleases and as he can.


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