“We will burn you to-morrow. The Great Spirit has helped you, but he cannot save you.”
The shower lasted for over an hour, and when it had concluded the red men gathered around the stake, where they beat and kicked their captive until eleven o’clock at night. Then a brave called Half Moon asked him if he did not want to go to sleep.
“I am exhausted,” replied the scout. “If you intend to kill me to-morrow, loosen my bonds and let me rest.”
Half Moon untied the strands which bound the weakened frontiersman, carried him to a log hut, and there bound him to a pole in the centre, with deer thongs which cut tightly into his flesh. A rope was placed about his neck and was tied to a rafter of the house. Three guards were placed to watch him, and, as Half Moon departed, he said:
“Get a good sleep, paleface. You will need it, for to-morrow you will eat fire. This is what comes to you for fighting against your own people.”
The scout had not yet lost all hope of making his escape, and carefully considered the possibility of getting away. Two of his guards were soon asleep; the third (an aged brave) smoked a long, clay pipe and told him that he had seen many palefaces tortured at the stake. “Some weep like squaws,” said he. “Others bear it like men. You have once been a redskin and should be able to stand the fire without crying. You should come through without a bit of trouble.”
On and on he thus rambled until he became worn out—his head dropped upon his breast—and he began to snore loudly. As the noise of his heavy breathing came to the ears of the scout, he began to work vigorously at his bonds. By wriggling, tugging, and pulling, at last his hands were free. He reached for the thong about his neck and began to chew it with his teeth.
As he turned and twisted in an endeavor to free himself from this remaining bond, day began to break and the pale light of dawn flooded the cabin. The talkative old Indian awoke; yawned; stretched; and looked around at the captive; but Slover clasped his hands behind his back as if they were still tied, and stood perfectly still. The red man turned over upon his side and again composed himself in sleep. It was now or never with the captured frontiersman.
