And then it was that he suddenly beheld a tall figure standing motionless not far ahead of him and almost in his path. It was a chief of some importance from his war-bonnet, and he had perhaps been going the rounds of his sentinels. Now he stood motionless, his back to the scout, looking toward the fort, one elbow leaning upon a broken stub of a tree, the other hand holding his rifle, hanging idly by his side. The chief was evidently in a reverie--or was he listening? Had he heard the scout’s breathing--or some other sound that warned him of the white man’s presence?
The question seared Texas Jack’s brain. It startled him to action. This was no moment for taking chances.
He rose up like a shadow, and, with great, catlike strides, stole upon the statuelike Indian. It went against the grain for the scout to strike even a redskin from behind. Man to man and face to face in a fair struggle would have pleased Texas Jack better. But the entire success of his attempt to reach the fort depended upon the action of the next few seconds.
Suddenly the chief began to turn--with a jerking motion which showed that he was startled. Some instinct told him that there was an enemy at hand. Perhaps his lips were already opened to give a warning call.
Like a stone from the sling the scout leaped forward--as the panther leaps! His knee found the small of the Indian’s back; his left had clutched his throat like a vise; his right drove his keen blade downward--_and home_!
The redskin crumpled and fell without a sound upon the earth. Not even a cough or death-rattle proclaimed the passing of his spirit. And the number of seconds occupied in the killing were infinitesimal. One moment the red chief stood there leaning on the broken tree; the next Texas Jack, in his Indian garb, had taken his place and assumed his attitude!
Unless some member of the tribe had been near enough to watch the chief continuously, this action of the scout’s was inspired. The chief had gone down and lay dead under his feet; the white man had taken his place, and for several moments, while he recovered his breath, he stood there in the exact attitude the real Indian had assumed in life.
Carefully he scrutinized his surroundings as closely as might be for the gloom. He became aware at length that a warrior was stalking toward him from the left--undoubtedly one of the sentinels. This man came on, saw the supposed chief standing by the tree stub, and made a gesture as though he were saluting his superior.