They had been preceded already by Braxton Wyatt, who had
hung back craftily while the Iroquois broke down the door.
CHAPTER IX
WYOMING
The five made no attempt to pursue. In fact, they did not leave
the cabin, but stood there a while, looking down at the fallen,
hideous with war paint, but now at the end of their last trail.
Their tomahawks lay upon the floor, and glittered when the light
from the fire fell upon them. Smoke, heavy with the odor of
burned gunpowder, drifted about the room.
Henry threw open the two shuttered windows, and fresh currents of
air poured into the room. Over the mountains in the east came
the first shaft of day. The surface of the river was lightening.
"What shall we do with them?" asked Paul, pointing to the silent
forms on the floor.
"Leave them," said Henry. "Butler's army is burning everything
before it, and this house and all in it is bound to go. You
notice, however, that Braxton Wyatt is not here."
"Trust him to escape every time," said Shif'less Sol. "Of course
he stood back while the Indians rushed the house. But ez shore
ez we live somebody will get him some day. People like that
can't escape always.
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