“If you had not been present when he was captured, his hair would now be hanging from the wigwam of the vicious one. He has the blood of several Delawares upon his hands now and one more would only have added to his greatness even if it were only the scalp of a boy.
“Masi is a ruthless brave. Ever since he was beaten in battle by the brave Delaware, Running Bear, he has carried hatred in his heart for the Delawares. Their having sent hunting parties into the land of the Iroquois and taken game from our hunting grounds was all the excuse that was needed. And so our tribes are at war, and it will not cease until many are dead and there is much sadness in the wigwams of both tribes.” With these words, the warriors withdrew from the door.
Little Horse had heard all and pondered the words of the Iroquois. He had not known that any of their tribe had invaded the hunting grounds of the Iroquois unless it had been himself. This troubled him, but he pushed the thoughts from his mind and slept once again. Because of his training he slept soundly and as dawn broke through the greyness he awoke feeling quite hungry and thirsty.
The guards at his door looked in, and soon food and drink were brought to him. He ate hungrily and drank long of the cool water and when he had finished, his guards stepped forward and once again bound his wrists. However, they took him outside the wigwam and allowed him to walk up and down for a short while to give his muscles exercise. The morning passed quickly and soon it was time.
Little Horse felt the old fear once again returning to his breast and now there was nothing he could do to force it back. As the guards approached they noticed Little Horse looking upward as if to speak with someone and it was true, for Little Horse was calling upon the powers of nature to give him strength at this hour of trial.
His guards approached him and, grasping his arms, dragged him from the wigwam, for now fear had gripped the heart of Little Horse and he fought the hands of the Iroquois which held his arms in firm grip and he fought the tough thongs which bound his wrists. But twist and turn as he would, it did no good and soon he was standing before the elders of the tribe.
Across the center of the village he saw the gauntlet of tall powerful braves begin to form and his legs trembled slightly. The elders talked among themselves, and then one old man stepped forward and spoke to Little Horse.
“Your tribe has invaded the lands of the Iroquois in seeking wild game and in doing so they have broken the law of the tribes. If they had stayed on their own ground there would have been no need for war. But for the Iroquois to do nothing when their neighbor invades the sacred hunting ground would be as if we shouted through the forest that we were weak and afraid of the Delawares. You have been captured on our land and as an example to all Delawares you will be made to run the gauntlet. If you do so successfully your life will be spared, but if not the war clubs my braves now hold shall beat your body till it blends with the dirt of the forest floor and you are no more. Are you ready for the ordeal?”
Little Horse held his head high and looking straight into the eyes of the elder warrior, he said, “I know not of any of our braves that invaded your hunting grounds unless it was myself. In pursuit of the wild turkey, I ran quickly along the trail and was in the land of the Iroquois before I realized. I did not think that the great Iroquois would miss one little wild turkey.”
The old warrior looked stern and then he said, “It is not you but other braves of your tribe who have entered our grounds, but you and I are not here to argue, for I will not even discuss it, the law has been broken and war has been declared. Already the blood of one of our warriors had been spilled on the very edge of our camp.”