“Do you desire such a fate?” continued the old ferry man.
“The Indian looked at him with surprise, and answered without hesitation that he did—and then insisted upon being killed immediately.
“Would you attempt to injure the white man again if we were not to kill you?”
The Indian smiled, but made no answer.
“I am in earnest,” continued Roughgrove, “and wish to know what you would do if we spared your life.”
The Indian said such talk was only trifling, and again insisted upon being dispatched.
After a short consultation with Boone and Glenn, Roughgrove repeated his question.
The savage replied that he did not believe it possible for him to escape immediate death—but if he were not killed, he could never think of hurting any of those, who saved him, afterwards. Yet he stated very frankly that he would kill and rob any other pale-faces he might meet with.
“Let me blow his brains out,” said Sneak, throwing his gun up to his shoulder. The Indian understood the movement, if not the words, and turning towards him, presented a full front, without quailing.
“He speaks the truth,” said Boone; “he would never injure any of us himself, nor permit any of his tribe to do it, so far as his influence extended. Yet he will die rather than make a promise not to molest others. His word may be strictly relied upon. It is not fear that extorts the promise never to war against us—it would be his gratitude for sparing his life. Take down your gun, Sneak. Let us decide upon his fate. I am in favour of liberating him.”