When Bob uttered this one word his eyes were fastened upon the face of Pontiac, who was thoughtfully surveying the prisoners. And perhaps it was something he saw in the countenance of the renowned sachem that encouraged the boy.
Threatening braves pushed around them; tomahawks were waving in the air above their heads; and awful shouts sounded in their ears.
Sandy closed his eyes, as though unable to face the doom which he feared was so close. Doubtless in that moment of suspense his mind flew to that dear cabin far away, where he knew his mother must be waiting every day for the safe return of her children, and praying that they might be spared to her.
A groan burst from his lips; but it did not spring from fear of the fate that hung over his own head.
"Kate! Mother! Oh! Heaven help them!" Sandy said, again and again.
Still Bob watched the great leader. He seemed to divine that, if help came at all to himself and his brother, it must spring from Pontiac alone. And when he saw the chief suddenly push forward toward the struggling group, where the excited braves were jostling each other about, each anxious to have the glory of finishing the young captives, he had faith to believe that all was not yet over.
Now the voice of Pontiac was heard again, and as before commanding that none dare to injure the prisoners until permission were given.
He stood in front of them now, so close that, had Bob been free to use his arms, and dared, he might have put out a hand and touched the person of the sachem. Long and earnestly did Pontiac look them over. Wonder marked his face when he saw that they were but half-grown lads, striplings who had better have been safe in their cabin far away, rather than here in a hostile land, with a thousand mortal foes around them.
Then Pontiac turned to the heaving crowd of painted warriors, with every wild eye fastened upon his face.