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Updated: June 29, 2025
Suddenly she ceased her efforts and looked beyond him with a gasp and such a startled expression, that he knew some unusual cause had produced it. Ziffak, head chieftain of the Murhapas, was a shrewder and more far-seeing man than even his white friends suspected.
Conscious of their own might, and knowing the prodigious mineral wealth at their command, the Murhapas are naturally jealous of their neighbors, and fight fiercely to resist anything that bears a resemblance to an encroachment upon their rights.
Haffgo now began urging his brother to make the leap, which had proven the death of Waggaman, saying, with reason, that the strength and activity of the head chieftain of the Murhapas were sure to carry him over where no one else could succeed. The two talked in their native tongue, but their meaning was so clear that the American needed no one to interpret the words.
From what he had already stated, it was evident they were not yet through with the Aryks. Despite their frightful repulse, they would hold the Murhapas in greater dread than the whites; and, well aware of the penalty of allowing them to pass above the rapids, would never cease their efforts to prevent such a disaster.
He held his breath, and, as the seconds passed, began wondering whether there was a possibility after all of successfully following the footsteps of his friend. He was encouraged by the sounds of the deafening tumult from the front of the house. The Murhapas had swarmed into the front-room, proving that they had decided upon making the very rush of which the defenders stood in such dread.
The interior of the room would have been wrapped in gloom, had not the mother of Ziffak made her appearance and started a fire on the hearth at the further end of the apartment. The white men watched her closely to see how the Murhapas were accustomed to secure ignition. But they were disappointed.
All saw the giant head chieftain of the Murhapas who repeated the shout and added an exclamation that was a command, forbidding his allies to hurl a single weapon. They must have deemed him mad, but if so he was ten times more to be dreaded than if sane.
A party of Aryks; presuming upon the friendly relations just established with their masters, ventured to make their way to the enchanted place without permission or knowledge of the Murhapas. Before they could get away, they were discovered by some of the lookouts, and every one slain with dreadful torture.
Being of the same race, he ought to have been a friend, but when the bright moonlight fell upon his face, it showed the countenance of a demon. He was Burkhardt, an escaped convict, who had lived for five years among the Murhapas, and he was seeking the life of Fred Ashman, who, in his enchanting visions of love, never dreamed of the awful shadow stealing upon him.
When King Haffgo peered carefully over the shoulders of the crouching bowman, he saw the couple standing with their backs toward him, as they faced the chasm which had been found impassable for the Murhapas. The slumbering anger in the parent's breast was kindled to a white heat, when he observed the white man holding the hand of his daughter, and he saw him lean over and touch his lips to hers.
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