The Indians, knowing what must shortly happen, sent a strong force of well-armed runners to the left. The hunter soon found his course stopped by a deep chasm that lay in front and to the right of him. The chasm was impassable, and the only avenue of escape was at the left; but this was blocked up, as he quickly perceived, by a body of his enemies, who were also closing in behind him.
Under these circumstances, Old Blaze concluded that it would be better for him to surrender, than to exasperate the Indians by fighting to the death. He threw down his rifle and tomahawk, and advanced toward his pursuers, holding out his hand, with a ludicrous attempt at a smile.
“As ye seem to want me so bad, red-skins, I’ll come to ye,” he said: “but it’s a-treatin’ a feller mighty rough, when he comes a-visitin’ of ye, to chase him as if he was a varmint.”
The Indians made no reply to this speech, but quietly bound their captive, and carried him to the village, where he was tied to a stake near the council-lodge.
It was an unpleasant predicament in which Old Blaze found himself; but he was not one of those men who despair. While life lasted, there was a chance to escape; if death should come, he would meet it like a man. It was not long before he had reason to hope.
He saw a white man passing through the village. Although attired in the Indian fashion, this man was undoubtedly white. He might be a renegade, who had become a savage in nature, as well as in dress; or he might be a trader, who would assent to every thing the Indians chose to do, for the sake of gaining their favor. At all events, his face was white, and he could not entirely have lost sympathy with the race from which he sprung.
The prisoner beckoned to him; but Silas Wormley (for he was the white man) did not appear to notice the signal. On the contrary, he quickened his pace, as if he was desirous of “passing by on the other side.” But, when he was called upon in the English language, in tones that plainly showed that he was known to be a white man, he was obliged to stop and turn around, with a look of affected surprise. He slowly walked over to where the captive was standing, and was accosted by Old Blaze rather roughly, considering the fact that the hunter needed his assistance.
“I say, stranger, has anybody sent fur ye, in a big hurry?”
“No. What do you mean by that?”
“Didn’t scare ye bad—did I?—when I made signals to ye from over hyar?”