Scene III.--_Cedar Swamp.

_Enter_ Scudder _and_ Pete, L. 1. E.

_Scud._ Come on, Pete, we shan't reach the house before midday.

_Pete._ Nebber mind, sar, we bring good news--it won't spile for de keeping.

_Scud._ Ten miles we've had to walk, because some blamed varmin onhitched our dug-out. I left it last night all safe.

_Pete._ P'r'aps it floated away itself.

_Scud._ No; the hitching line was cut with a knife.

_Pete._ Say, Mas'r Scudder, s'pose we go in round by de quarters and raise de darkies, den dey cum long wid us, and we 'proach dat ole house like Gin'ral Jackson when he took London out dar.

_Scud._ Hello, Pete, I never heard of that affair.

_Pete._ I tell you, sar--hush!

_Scud._ What? [_Music._]

_Pete._ Was dat?--a cry out dar in de swamp--dar agin!

_Scud._ So it is. Something forcing its way through the undergrowth--it comes this way--it's either a bear or a runaway nigger. [_Draws pistol_--M'Closky _rushes on and falls at_ Scudder's _feet._]

_Scud._ Stand off--what are ye?

_Pete._ Mas'r Clusky.

_M'Closky._ Save me--save me! I can go no farther. I heard voices.

_Scud._ Who's after you?

_M'Closky._ I don't know, but I feel it's death! In some form, human, or wild beast, or ghost, it has tracked me through the night. I fled; it followed. Hark! there it comes--it comes--don't you hear a footstep on the dry leaves?

_Scud._ Your crime has driven you mad.

_M'Closky._ D'ye hear it--nearer--nearer--ah! [Wahnotee _rushes on, and at_ M'Closky, L. H.]

_Scud._ The Injiun! by thunder.

_Pete._ You'se a dead man, Mas'r Clusky--you got to b'lieve dat.

_M'Closky._ No--no. If I must die, give me up to the law; but save me from the tomahawk. You are a white man; you'll not leave one of your own blood to be butchered by the red-skin?

_Scud._ Hold on now, Jacob; we've got to figure on that--let us look straight at the thing. Here we are on the selvage of civilization. It ain't our sile, I believe, rightly; but Nature has said that where the white man sets his foot, the red man and the black man shall up sticks and stand around. But what do we pay for that possession? In cash? No--in kind--that is, in protection, forbearance, gentleness; in all them goods that show the critters the difference between the Christian and the savage. Now, what have you done to show them the distinction? for, darn me, if I can find out.

_M'Closky._ For what I have done, let me be tried.

_Scud._ You have been tried--honestly tried and convicted. Providence has chosen your executioner. I shan't interfere.

_Pete._ O, no; Mas'r Scudder, don't leave Mas'r Closky like dat--don't, sa--'tain't what good Christian should do.

_Scud._ D'ye hear that, Jacob? This old nigger, the grandfather of the boy you murdered, speaks for you--don't that go through you? D'ye feel it? Go on, Pete, you've waked up the Christian here, and the old hoss responds. [_Throws bowie-knife to_ M'Closky.] Take that, and defend yourself.

_Exit_ Scudder _and_ Pete, R. 1. E.--Wahnotee _faces him.--Fight--buss._ M'Closky _runs off,_ L. 1. E.--Wahnote _follows him.--Screams outside._