This made the savages more bloodthirsty than was usual even with them, and the common sentiment towards the prisoner was a deadly one.
Billy Blossom put in his ear, and made an appeal for the life of the prisoner, but the savages would not hear him.
They wanted a life, and a life they would have.
The prisoner was a white man, was not a renegade, and that was enough for them.
They unbound him, and warriors ran to collect brushwood, for their intention was to burn him.
Blossom approached him with a very sorrowful shake of his head.
“Can’t help it, pard,” he said. “I really did cotton to you, but I’m afraid you’ll have to pass in your checks. You see the reds jest cotched you at a pretty bad time, for they’re mad about so many of the band being killed, and they want to do some killin’ to make them feel jist a little more square. Of course it’s not your fault, but then you’re a white man, and they ain’t partickler about the thing, so long as they can dance and yell and cut up their wild didoes while a white skin is blisterin’. Stand it like a man and don’t squeal.”
“I’ll not,” said Van Dorn, who was pale but calm. “I can die, but I’d much rather live, for I’ve been knocked around all my life, and jist now a glorious time was opening for me. But it’s no use, as you say, so I’ll shut my teeth hard and show them that I can die game.”
The prisoner was now taken in hand by two of Black Arrow’s braves, who very quickly removed the coat, vest, and shirt from the upper portion of his body.
When this much was taken the white skin was revealed.