It was a scene worthy the inspired pencil of the artist.  The malignant, scowling Shawnees, steadily advancing upon the dauntless Huron, who, though his moccasins were soaked with the blood from his own wounds, stood as firm and immovable as the adamantine rock.  His left leg was thrown somewhat in advance of his right, as if he were about to spring, but in such a manner that his weight was perfectly balanced.  The knife was held firmly, but not as it would have been were he about to strike.  The tomahawk, however, was drawn back, as if he were only holding it a second, while he selected his victim.  His eyes! no imagination can conceive their fierce electric glitter as their burning gaze was fixed upon his merciless enemies.  Black as midnight, they seemed to emit palpable rays, that shot through the air with an irresistibly penetrating power, and not once was their awful power eclipsed for an instant by the closing of the eyelid.

Onward came the exultant Shawnees.  There was no checking them, and throwing all his mighty strength in his right arm, Oonomoo hurled his tomahawk like a thunderbolt among them.  Striking an Indian fair between the eyes, it clove his skull as if it had been wax; and striking another on the shoulder, cut through the flesh and bone as if they were but the green leaves of the trees above, Fluellina sunk down by the feet of her husband in prayer, while he, changing his knife to his right hand, waited the shock of the coming avalanche!  So terrible did the exasperated Huron appear, that the entire party of Shawnees paused out of sheer horror of closing in with him.  Wounded and bleeding as he was, they knew that he would carry many of their number to the earth, before his defiant spirit could be driven out of him.  And at scarcely a dozen feet distant, the craven, cowardly wretches poured a volley from their rifles upon both him and the kneeling woman beside him.

[Illustration:  So terrible did the exasperated Huron appear, that the entire party of Shawnees paused out of sheer horror.]

Oonomoo did not leap or yell; but with his eyes still fixed upon his enemies, and his knife still firmly clutched in his hand, commenced slowly sinking backward to the earth.  The Shawnees saw it, and one of them sprung forward, as if to claim his scalp, but he fell howling to the ground, prostrated by a ball from the undaunted Niniotan who still maintained his place behind his tree.  His companions were in the act of moving forward, to avenge the deaths of hundreds of their comrades, when the tramp of approaching men was heard, and a clear voice rung out:  “This way, boys!  I see the infernal copper-heads through the trees.  Make ready, take aim—­God bless me! you fired before the orders were given.”

At the first glimpse of the Shawnees, huddled together in a rushing body, every one of the border men discharged his piece, without waiting for the command, right in among them.  The destruction was fearful and the panic complete.  Numbers came to the ground, writhing, dying and dead, while the survivors scattered howling to the woods, and were seen no more.