"Hey, you! Wait a minute. If I surrender, you treat me well? No hurt?"
"No harm, brudder. Treat good. No shoot, no get hurt. Fine man."
"I'll bet you're lyin'," thought Simon.
The Indian arrived, to shake hands. Simon watchfully consented. His hand was grasped, the grip instantly fastened upon it, would not loosen—"Tarnation! Let go, I tell you!" growled Simon, and with his other arm swung his gun wrathfully.
At the moment the Indian who had followed him through the thicket landed like a panther upon his back and pinioned him tightly. It all was up with Simon. He struggled in vain. The horseback Indian "seized him by the hair of his head and shook him until his teeth rattled." Other Indians rushed joyously in. They scolded him with shrill tongues and belabored him with their ramrods.
"Hoss tief, hey? Big rascal, hey? Steal Injun's hoss, hey? One rascal white man, hey?" At every "hey" their ramrods fell; they cuffed him until his ears rang, and he rather believed that they were going to beat him to death then and there. Plainly enough they were the owners of the horses.
On a sudden they ceased, and stared. Brave Montgomery had appeared, summoned by the noise. He was standing yonder, among the thinned trees, trying to freshen the priming of his rifle. Two Indians darted for him at once. They pursued him amidst the trees—all vanished—two rifle shots spoke; the Indians came back waving a scalp, which they thrust into Simon's face as promise that his own should soon join it.
Thus Montgomery perished, in a long chance of rescuing his partner. But he could have done nothing. He only proved himself to be the kind that never leaves a friend. George Clark did not know what had happened; he heard the rumpus and made off. Maybe he acted wisely. It was a hard problem. If he had killed an Indian in the party, the party would have killed Simon. Anyway, he arrived at Logan's, by himself.
The angry Shawnees, with their white Indian looking on, had a very good time beating Simon, until they all, including Simon, were tired out. Then they staked him flat on his back, stretched by arms and legs and neck—his ankles drawn taut to two stakes, his elbows and wrists held by a stout pole laid across his chest, and his neck enclosed in a halter. He could not move an inch!
They cuffed him a little more, for full measure—"Tief! You big hoss tief! Hey? Hey? How you like tief? Hey?"