With savage glee Mack turned to face Lennox. Only the two of them were left in the clearing. At last it had come to a fistfight between them. I’ll kill him, Mack thought.
Lennox rolled over and came up with a knife in his hand.
He lunged at Mack. Mack dodged, then kicked Lennox’s kneecap and danced out of range.
Limping, Lennox came at him. This time he feinted with the knife, let Mack dodge the wrong way, then struck again. Mack felt a sharp pain in his left side. He swung with his right fist and hit Lennox a mighty blow to the side of the head. Lennox blinked and raised the knife.
Mack backed away. He was younger and stronger than Lennox, but Lennox probably had much experience of knife fights. With a stab of panic he realized that close combat was not the way to defeat a man with a knife. He had to change his tactics.
Mack turned and ran a few yards, looking for a weapon. His eye lit on a rock about the size of his fist. He stooped and picked it up and turned.
Lennox rushed him.
Mack threw the rock. It hit Lennox squarely in the center of the forehead, and Mack gave a shout of triumph. Lennox stumbled, dazed. Mack had to make the most of his advantage. Now was the moment to disarm Lennox. Mack kicked out and connected with Lennox’s right elbow.
Lennox dropped the knife and gave a cry of dismay.
Mack had him.
He hit Lennox on the chin with all his might. The blow hurt his hand but gave him deep satisfaction. Lennox backed away, fear in his eyes, but Mack was after him fast. He punched Lennox in the belly, then hit him on each side of the head. Dazed and terrified, Lennox staggered. He was finished, but Mack could not stop. He wanted to kill the man. He grabbed Lennox by the hair, pulled his head down, and kneed him in the face. Lennox screamed and blood spurted from his nose. He fell to his knees, coughed, and vomited. Mack was about to hit him again when he heard Jay’s voice say: “Stop or I’ll kill her.”
Lizzie walked into the clearing and Jay followed, holding his rifle to the back of her head.
Mack stared, paralyzed. He could see that Jay’s rifle was cocked. If Jay even stumbled, the gun would blow her head off. Mack turned away from Lennox and moved toward Jay. He was still possessed by savagery. “You’ve only got one shot,” he snarled at Jay. “If you shoot Lizzie, I’ll kill you.”
“Then perhaps I should shoot you,” Jay said.
“Yes,” Mack said madly, moving toward him. “Shoot me.”
Jay swung the rifle.
Mack felt a wild jubilation: the gun was no longer pointed at Lizzie. He walked steadily toward Jay.
Jay took careful aim at Mack.
There was a strange noise, and suddenly a narrow cylinder of wood was sticking out of Jay’s cheek.
Jay screamed in pain and dropped the rifle. It went off with a bang and the ball flew past Mack’s head.
Jay had been shot in the face with an arrow.
Mack felt his knees go weak.
The noise came again, and a second arrow pierced Jay’s neck.
He fell to the ground.
Into the clearing came Fish Boy, his friend, and Peg, followed by five or six Indian men, all carrying bows.
Mack began to shake with relief. He guessed that when Jay captured Fish Boy, the other Indian had gone for help. The rescue party must have met up with the runaway horses. He did not know what had happened to Dobbs, but one of the Indians was wearing Dobbs’s boots.
Lizzie stood over Jay, staring at him, her hand covering her mouth. Mack went over and put his arms around her. He looked down at the man on the ground. Blood was pouring from his mouth. The arrow had opened a vein in his neck.
“He’s dying,” Lizzie said shakily.
Mack nodded.
Fish Boy pointed at Lennox, who was still kneeling. The other Indians seized him, threw him flat and held him down. There was some conversation between Fish Boy and the oldest of the others. Fish Boy kept showing his fingers. They looked as if the nails had been pulled out, and Mack guessed that was how Lennox had tortured the boy.
The older Indian drew a hatchet from his belt. With a swift, powerful motion he cut off Lennox’s right hand at the wrist.
Mack said: “By Jesus.”
Blood gushed from the stump and Lennox fainted.
The man picked up the severed hand and, with a formal air, presented it to Fish Boy.
He took it solemnly. Then he turned around and hurled it away. It flew up into the air and over the trees, to fall somewhere in the woods.
There was a murmur of approval from the Indians.
“A hand for a hand,” Mack said quietly.
“God forgive them,” said Lizzie.
But they had not finished. They picked up the bleeding Lennox and placed him under a tree. They tied a rope to his ankle, looped the rope over a bough of the tree, and raised him until he was hanging upside-down. Blood pumped from his severed wrist and pooled on the ground beneath him. The Indians stood around, looking at the grisly sight. It seemed they were going to watch Lennox die. They reminded Mack of the crowd at a London hanging.
Peg came up to them and said; “We ought to do something about the Indian boy’s fingers.”
Lizzie looked away from her dying husband.
Peg said: “Have you got something to bandage his hand?”
Lizzie blinked and nodded. “I’ve got some ointment, and a handkerchief we can use for a bandage. I’ll see to it.”
“No,” Peg said firmly. “Let me do it.”
“If you wish.” Lizzie found a jar of ointment and a silk handkerchief and gave them to Peg.
Peg detached Fish Boy from the group around the tree. Although she did not speak his language, she seemed to be able to communicate with him. She led him down to the stream and began to bathe his wounds.
“Mack,” said Lizzie.
He turned to her. She was crying.
“Jay is dead,” she said.
Mack looked at him. He was completely white. The bleeding had stopped and he was motionless. Mack bent and felt for a heartbeat. There was none.
“I loved him once,” Lizzie said.
“I know.”
“I want to bury him.”
Mack got a spade from their kit. While the Indians watched Lennox bleed to death, Mack dug a shallow grave. He and Lizzie lifted Jay’s body and placed it in the hole. Lizzie bent down and gingerly withdrew the arrows from the corpse. Mack shoveled soil over the body and Lizzie began to cover the grave with stones.
Suddenly Mack wanted to get away from this place of blood.
He rounded up the horses. There were now ten: the six from the plantation, plus the four Jay and his gang had brought. Mack was struck by the peculiar thought that he was rich. He owned ten horses. He began to load the supplies.
The Indians stirred. Lennox seemed to be dead. They left the tree and came over to where Mack was loading the horses. The oldest man spoke to Mack. Mack did not understand a word, but the tone was formal. He guessed the man was saying that justice had been done.
They were ready to go.
Fish Boy and Peg came up from the waterside together. Mack looked at the boy’s hand: Peg had made a nice job of the bandage.
Fish Boy said something, and there followed an exchange in the Indian language that sounded quite angry. At last all the Indians but Fish Boy walked away.
“Is he staying?” Mack asked Peg.
She shrugged.
The other Indians went eastward, along the river valley toward the setting sun, and soon disappeared into the woods.
Mack got on his horse. Fish Boy unroped a spare horse from the line and mounted it. He went ahead. Peg rode beside him. Mack and Lizzie followed.
“Do you think Fish Boy is going to guide us?” Mack said to Lizzie.