The long night finally passed, and as day dawned the lads looked anxiously about the lodge to learn if they were guarded. They appeared to be alone, but they mistrusted that sharp-eared sentinels were just outside the entrance. However, the lads took advantage of their privacy to study the details of their prison. It was a square, one story structure about four bow-lengths high. It was made of slabs of bark which were held in place by two rows of upright saplings or poles. The roof, which was peaked, was also of bark, and had a small square opening in the center to let out the smoke of the camp-fire. The lads found themselves in a room about four bow-lengths square, with a shallow fire-pit in the middle, and low willow bunks or platforms along two sides. The lodge would have accommodated six or eight persons, and was similar in design and material to those erected by the Delawares. It showed no signs of recent occupancy.
It was not long before the Delawares heard some one approaching. Their hearts quickened at the sound, for it suggested a number of disturbing possibilities. Then the robe which covered the doorway was drawn aside, and a warrior entered the lodge. He was a great powerful fellow, and he stared so fiercely at the captives that they felt quite sure he meant them no good. They returned his glances without wavering, and in a few moments he turned and called to some one outside. An aged woman answered the summons, and the lads saw that she brought food and water.
The warrior kneeled and unbound their hands. Then the old woman placed meat and water before them, and hobbled away. The guard, however, instantly began to annoy them. Pointing at the bones and scraps of meat which had been set before them, he imitated the whining of a dog, and laughed boisterously. The Delawares knew that he was trying to make them understand that they had been fed with the leavings from the camp which ordinarily were given to the dogs. The lads gave no sign that they comprehended the insult. Realizing that refusal to eat the food might subject them to a brutal attack, they consumed it in sullen obedience. Then they looked expectantly toward the Mohawk. He was laughing and making significant gestures with his knife to make them realize the punishments that awaited them. They watched him without the slightest trace of emotion. Their indifference seemed to anger him, and he began to talk fiercely in the Mohawk dialect. The lads showed plainly that they did not understand his threats, and he suddenly seemed to realize that he was making himself ridiculous. A moment afterward he tied their hands behind them, and drew the buckskin thongs deep into the flesh. Then he laughed gleefully, and left the lodge.
“That warrior is very fierce,” said Spotted Deer, as the footfalls died away.
“Well, he did not frighten us,” boasted Running Fox.
“That made him mad,” laughed Spotted Deer.
It was not long before they began to feel the effects of his cruelty. The tight buckskin thongs ate slowly into their flesh, and caused them great agony. However, they bore it in silence. Each knew what the other was enduring, but neither of them was willing to acknowledge that the Mohawk had made him suffer.
As the day progressed they heard considerable noise and confusion in the camp, and they believed that the Mohawks were preparing for some important ceremony. The thought filled them with gloomy premonitions. Running Fox, especially, read a warning in the sounds. He knew that his bold defiance of the famous war-chief would not be permitted to pass unpunished, and he feared that at any moment he would be called out to pay the penalty. He had heard many stories about the awful tortures which the Mohawks inflicted upon their prisoners, and he wondered if he were about to experience them. The possibility tried his nerve.
“Running Fox, what I hear makes me feel bad,” Spotted Deer said, uneasily. “Perhaps the Mohawks are getting ready to kill us.”
“We must be brave,” Running Fox told him.