Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 13, 2025
The tips of the hairs usually are lighter, giving him a frosted appearance, and this is what has given him his name. His claws are longer and more curved than those of Buster; in fact those claws are so big that they look very terrible. Because they are so long, Silvertip cannot climb trees.
He was playing as a cat plays with a mouse; he was glorying in his power. The silence was that of death. It signified the silence of death. The war-club descended with violence. "Feed the Christians to ther buzzards!" "I have been here before," said Joe to Whispering Winds. "I remember that vine-covered stone. We crawled over it to get at Girty and Silvertip.
"The life of any borderman is that; but Wetzel's is particularly so." "What is he called by the Indians?" "They call him Atelang, or, in English, Deathwind." "By George! That's what Silvertip said in French 'Le Vent de la Mort." "Yes; you have it right. A French fur trader gave Wetzel that name years ago, and it has clung to him.
The Indians changed from gay to grave; they picked up their weapons and looked keenly on every side; the big Indian at once retied Joe, and then all crowded round the chief. "Did you hear what Silvertip said, and did you notice the effect it had?" whispered Jim, taking advantage of the moment. "It sounded like French, but of course it wasn't," replied Joe. "It was French. 'Le Vent de la Mort."
He drew his tomahawk and with a scream aimed a vicious blow at Joe. He missed his aim, however, for Silvertip had intervened and turned the course of the keen hatchet. But the weapon struck Joe a glancing blow, inflicting a painful, though not dangerous wound. The renegade's nose was skinned and bleeding profusely.
Soon dark figures could be discerned against the patches of green thicket; they came nearer and nearer, and now entered the open glade where Silvertip stood with his warriors. Joe counted twelve, and noted that they differed from his captors.
Silvertip and another Indian stood watch. Some time before morning Joe suddenly awoke. The night was dark, yet it was lighter than when he had fallen asleep. A pale, crescent moon shown dimly through the murky clouds. There was neither movement of the air nor the chirp of an insect. Absolute silence prevailed. Joe saw the Indian guard leaning against a tree, asleep. Silvertip was gone.
Somewhat surprised at Heckewelder's grave tone, Jim got up from the supper-table and looked out of the door. He saw two tall Indians pacing to and fro under the maples. It was still early twilight and light enough to see clearly. One Indian was almost naked; the lithe, graceful symmetry of his dark figure standing out in sharp contrast to the gaunt, gaudily-costumed form of the other. "Silvertip!
Riding to higher ground I kept close watch on the few open patches up on the slope. The chase led toward us for a while. Suddenly I saw a big bear with a frosted coat go lumbering across one of these openings. "Silvertip! Silvertip!" I yelled at the top of my lungs. "I saw him!" My call thrilled everybody. Vern spurred his horse and took to the right. Teague advised that we climb the slope.
He turned to see Kate's wide, questioning eyes fixed upon him. "Nell was rescued." "Thank God!" murmured the girl. "Come along," shouted Girty, in his harsh voice, as, grasping Kate's arm, he pulled the girl violently to her feet. Then, picking up his rifle, he led her into the forest. Silvertip followed with Joe, while the remaining Indian guarded Jim.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking