“I am for making the attempt, Dick.”
“Well, we will do our best.”
The time passed slowly, that day, but also it passed faster than the two youths liked, for every hour that rolled away brought them nearer to the torture-stake.
After supper, that evening, they sat and waited in almost complete silence. They did not exchange many words, for they did not feel like talking. They reiterated their determination to try to make their escape, however, if any opportunity presented itself.
Presently it grew dark, and the youths heard considerable stirring about. They judged that the Indians were getting ready for the ceremony of burning them at the stake.
Slowly the time passed, and then presently into the wigwam came four Indian braves. They seized hold of the arms of Dick and Ben, and hustled them out of the wigwam, and conducted them toward a point just outside the edge of the village, where a fire was burning. As they drew nearer, the youths saw that several piles of wood had been gathered, and they knew that this was to be piled about them, and set fire to. In spite of the fact that they were brave youths, they shuddered.
They were led to a couple of tall, slender trees, about a foot in diameter, and their backs were placed against the trees. The moment had come when if at all the youths must make an attempt to get away, and suddenly they gave a strong wrench and attempted to jerk away from their captors’ grasp and make their escape, but they were quickly seized by a number of strong hands and held against the trees, while they were securely bound there with thongs.
Then the Indians began piling the wood around them, against their legs, while all the members of the band gathered around, to watch the proceedings.
Then brands from the fire were brought and stuck in among the dry wood that had been piled around them, and soon the wood was on fire and burning at a brisk rate.
Dick and Ben looked at each other, with despair in their eyes. They could see no possible chance of escape.