Читать книгу The Trail of Black Hawk онлайн

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“Deerfoot, you mustn’t do that!” exclaimed Joseph suddenly.

Knife in hand Deerfoot was busily engaged in scalping his fallen foe. As Joseph spoke, their Indian ally muttered something, but did not stop the work in which he was engaged.

“Deerfoot—” began Joseph again, when Robert interrupted him.

“Let him alone, Joe,” he cautioned in a low voice. “It is his custom to do that and he won’t like it if we stop him.”

“I guess you’re right,” agreed Joseph. “I can’t look at him, though,” and he turned his back on the revolting scene being enacted on the ground at his feet. The two young pioneers withdrew a short distance and waited for Deerfoot to join them.

“That was a lucky shot that one of us made,” remarked Joseph.

“I should say so,” agreed Robert, who was busily engaged in reloading his gun. “I wonder which one of us hit him.”

“I know I didn’t see him when I fired,” said Joseph. “I just aimed at the bush and trusted to luck.”

“The same thing I did,” exclaimed Joseph.

“Well, as long as we were successful it doesn’t make much difference who it was that hit him, I guess,” said Robert.