He still thought of Oglugechana, who dwells
within a hollow tree, and determined to sur-
prise and if possible to overpower this wonder-
working old man.
All now took their knives in their hands and
advanced with their leader to the attack upon
the log hut. "Wa-wa-wa-wa, woo, woo!"
they cried. Zip, zip! went the par-fleche door
and window, and they all rushed in!
There sat a man upon a roughly hewn stool.
He was attired in wolfskins and wore a fox-
skin cap upon his head. The larger portion of
his face was clothed with natural fur. A rudely
made cedar fiddle was tucked under his furred
chin. Supporting it with his left hand, he
sawed it vigorously with a bow that was not
unlike an Indian boy's miniature weapon, while
his moccasined left foot came down upon the
sod floor in time with the music. When the
shrill war-whoop came, and the door and win-
dow were cut in strips by the knives of the In-
dians, he did not even cease playing, but in-
stinctively he closed his eyes, so as not to behold
the horror of his own end.
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