The evening was beautiful, save for a hard wind. The wind would fan the flames. A warrior thrust a torch into the piles of hickory. A chief commenced to speak, bidding all watch the prisoner die but not to let him die too quickly. The wood was crackling, the heat of the flames wafted across John Slover's black-painted skin; he stiffened and held himself taut. He would bear himself like a man, and utter never a groan.
The heat increased; the orator was still haranguing; whew! Hah! What was that? The wind had ceased, the sky had darkened, there was a roll of thunder and the rain pattered! The drops pelted thicker, the cloud burst and a regular deluge descended, hissing into the fire, smudging it, drenching John Slover, driving the crowd away, under the roof—and putting out the fire completely.
A gasp of astonishment, almost awe, arose. The Great Spirit had interfered! The storm passed in twenty minutes, and left the sky clear for the setting sun. The Indians gained courage. Some were for rekindling the fire; but the wood was wet. There was no sport in burning a man with wet wood. So they untied him and seated him upon the ground. Then they danced the scalp dance around him for three hours, the while they kicked him, and beat him with sticks. At last they grew tired. He had again lost hope.
"You will burn in the morning," they jeered.
"Are you not sleepy, brother?" asked a tall young chief, Half Moon.
"Yes, I am," John answered, although that was a queer question to ask of a man battered like he was.
"Very well; we will all sleep, so that you may be fresh to eat fire to-morrow."
"A pleasant night for me," thought John.
Now it was eleven o'clock, by the stars. He was taken to a log cabin, under three guards. They tied his wrists and elbows together behind his back, with buffalo-hide thongs that bit into his flesh. They put a noose close around his neck and fastened the end of the rope to a beam above, giving him just enough slack so that he might lie down.
The three guards smoked their pipes and made themselves disagreeable by telling him about to-morrow. It seemed as though they never would go to bed and let him alone. After a time two of them did stretch out; they began to snore. The other sat up; smoked and smoked and talked and talked; described to him all the ceremonies of "eating fire," wondered with him how long he would hold out, encouraged him to stand the torture bravely and not forget that he once had been an Indian.