This simple expedient, superior to the best plans of the Indians, was greeted with yells of triumph. The chief said:
“Red Arrow is a medicine-man.”
The wooden tube was reinforced under Ward’s directions. This done, the savages danced and whooped about the grotesque cannon for some minutes. Ward stood with folded arms, his gaze gloating as it rested on the girl, and haughty with pride as he observed Black Hoof’s respectful bearing. Coming back to me he said:
“You wanted that woman. You will die among the Shawnees. You showed you wanted her when you followed her into that valley. Her father spoke of you and by his words I knew you wanted her. Now I have her.”
The girl came forward, attracted by Ward’s speech to me, although she could understand none of it. She drew aside in passing the renegade and dropped on her knees at my side.
“What do they plan? What will they do with me?” her dry lips demanded.
Ward, enraged by her show of aversion, seized her by the shoulder, ripping the cloth, and dragged her to her feet, and informed her:
“Catahecassa ordered his men to burn you. I made him give you to me. You are my woman. You are lucky I am not a red man.”
“No! No! I’ll burn, you monster! I’ll burn a hundred times,” she panted. And she struck her hand into his face, whereat the savages shouted in merriment.
I believed he would kill her then and there, for he groaned aloud from rage and raised his ax over his head.