Oagla suddenly turned toward the band, with uplifted hand, which broke the captive’s sentence.
Instantly every savage seemed to grow into a dusky statue.
From a spot quite a distance to the right, faint cries emanated, and the forest was tinged with a light that indicated a fire.
The savages remained silent for several moments, when Oagla started toward the spot.
“The Chippewas hold a prisoner,” he cried. “We will see him burn and hear his death-song.”
Obedient to their chieftain’s words, the savages started forward, and presently gained the summit of a wooded knoll which overlooked the torture-glen.
This spot was distant several miles from the Chippewa village, and had witnessed some of the most fiendish tortures ever inflicted by savage hands. When an enemy fell into the hands of the young braves, he was brought hither and tortured, and more than once they had spirited captives from the village and burned them here.
The war-party saw a white man lashed to a tree near the foot of the hill.
The flames were leaping at his throat with the ferocity of famished wolves, and he was boasting of fierce, vengeful triumphs over the kindred of his torturers.
“Ahdeek burns, but the White Tiger will avenge him!” cried the captive.