The hunter seemed to step forth¹ from some crevice² in the rocks, wherein he had been concealed³, and strode forward in such a manner that Lone⁴ Wolf saw him at the very instant the first word was uttered.  
The latter withdrew his gaze from the boy and turned with lightning-like swiftness upon his adversary⁵, while the latter, as cool and self-possessed as if he were about to slice up an antelope⁶ or buffalo⁷, continued approaching with his hunting knife firmly clasped in his right hand. The Indian, perceiving the character of the fight, flung his rifle several yards from him, where it was beyond the reach of both, and recoiling⁸ a single step, put himself in form to receive the charge of his assailant.
 
"Ned, my boy," said the latter, without looking at him, "get back. There's no telling what may happen."
 
This was no more than a prudent¹⁰ caution. The fight was over the boy, and if Lone Wolf should find the battle going against him, he would resort to any treacherous¹¹ trick by which to destroy the prize,—such, for instance, as a sudden dart¹² upon the unsuspecting spectator and the plunging¹³ of his knife to his heart before the active hunter could thwart¹⁴ him. Ned obeyed his rescuer, whom he had never seen before, and stepped back full a dozen yards from the combatants, but with his eyes intently fixed¹⁵ upon them.
 
Tom was not the man to advance blindly to the assault, for none knew better than he did the character of the foe¹⁶ he was about to assail⁹. When, therefore, he was just within striking distance, he paused, and, with his grey eyes centered upon the black, snake-like orbs¹⁷ of the chief, began circling around him in a stealthy cat-like movement, on the lookout¹⁸ for some opening of which he might take advantage.
 
"Lone Wolf is a coward and a dog," he growled¹⁹ between his set teeth. "He fights with pappooses, but he is afraid of men."
 
This was said with the sole purpose of exasperating²⁰ the warrior²¹, who would thus have been placed at a slight disadvantage; but he was already like a concentrated volcano—calm outwardly, but surcharged with fire and death within. The taunt²² did not move his nerves an iota²³, and he replied in words which were scarcely less irritating.
 
"It is the boasting dog which never hurts. If Lone Wolf is a dog, why are you so afraid to come within his reach?"
 
The words were yet in his mouth when the scout²⁴ dashed forward like a catapult and struck a tremendous blow, driven with such directness and swiftness that it could not have been parried. At the very instant Hardynge made the charge, Lone Wolf did the same, and the two similar blows, aimed at the same moment, encountered half way with such terrible violence that both knives were hurled²⁵ twenty feet beyond over the cliff at their side, and irrevocably beyond their reach. This left them with no weapons except such as nature had provided them with, and, now that their blood was up and each was smarting under the pain of the first collision, they immediately closed in and grappled each other like a couple of infuriated gladiators.
 
Hardynge was a marvel²⁶ of strength and activity, and so was the Apache. The two were nearly evenly matched, a slight superiority in wrestling attaching to the white man, who, after a furious struggle of a minute or so, flung his antagonist²⁷ as flat as could be, upon his back. He struck like an India-rubber ball, and, before Tom could fasten him down, so as to hold him, bounded up again and renewed his fight without a second's hesitation²⁸.
 
"The devil take you!" growled the maddened hunter, as he let drive a sledgehammer-like blow straight from the shoulder.
 
It encountered the chief fairly upon the forehead, with a force apparently²⁹ sufficient to crush his sk............