“Never, never! Get out, I tell you! I never want to see your vile face again. Go, and don’t bother me.”
“If I go now, it will be too late to call me back. Be sensible, and speak the one little word, I beg you.”
“No, I tell you, no. Get out! Oh, if I weren’t tied I’d show you the way!”
“As you please; but if you call me back I can’t come. Have you any relatives I can send a message to? Any wish that I can carry out?”
“Only that you may follow me soon; nothing else.”
“Then I am helpless, and can do no more except beg you, as a Christian, not to die in your sins. Ask God’s pardon, if not mine; think of your crimes, and of the judgment that lies before you.”
What his reply to this was I cannot repeat; his words chilled me with horror.
Intschu-Tschuna took my hand and led me away, saying: “My young white brother sees that this murderer does not deserve his intercession. He was born a Christian, and you call us heathen; but do you think a red brave would speak such words?”
I did not answer, for what could I say? Rattler’s conduct was inexplicable to me; he had been so cowardly, and had shown such abject terror at the very mention of torture, and now he acted as though all the pains of the world were absolutely nothing.
“It is not courage,” said Sam; “it’s clear rage, nothing but rage. He thinks it’s your fault that he has fallen into the Apaches’ hands. He hasn’t seen you since we were captured till to-day, and now he sees you free and the red men friendly to you, while he must die, and that’s ground enough for him to conclude we’ve played some trick. But let the agony begin, and he’ll sing another tune.”