"I would do the most I can for you, and I might do something, had you not joined Colonel Williamson, who murdered the Moravian Indians, knowing they were innocent of all wrong and that he ran no risk in killing them with their squaws and children."
"That was a bad act—a very bad act, Wingenund, and had I been with him, I never would have permitted it. I abhor the deed as do all good white men, no matter where they are."
"That may all be true," said the chief, "but Colonel Williamson went a second time and killed more of the Moravians."
"But I went out and did all I could to stop him."
"That may be true, too, but you cannot make the Indians believe it, and then, Colonel Crawford, when you were on the march here, you turned aside with your soldiers and went to the Moravian towns, but found them deserted. Our spies were watching you and saw you do this. Had you been looking for warriors, you would not have gone there, for you know the Moravians are foolish and will not fight."
"We have done nothing, and your spies saw nothing that your own people would not have done had they been in our situation."
"I have no wish to see you die, though you have forfeited your life, and had we Colonel Williamson, we might spare you; but that man has taken good care to keep out of our reach, and you will have to take his place. I can do nothing for you."
Colonel Crawford begged the chief to try and save him from the impending fate, but Wingenund assured him it was useless, and took his departure.
Shortly afterward the Indians began their preparations for the frightful execution.
A large stake was driven into the ground, and wood carefully placed around it. Then Crawford's hands were tied behind his back, and he was led out and securely fastened to the stake.