The time had come for Black Hoof to try him as a decoy. There remained a good hour of light. Patricia, not understanding, yet fearing the worst, hovered about her father, her eyes wildly staring and her whole appearance denoting a weakening of her reason. As they started to lead her father into the woods she attempted to follow him, and Black Hoof pushed her back. Cousin's sister spoke up, saying:

"I will keep her."

The warriors disappeared in the direction of the settlement. The two women left the camp on the opposite side. Ward went along with the Indians, and I knew this was my golden opportunity to escape. Before I could make a beginning at freeing my hands a noose fell over my head and clutched at my throat. The guards were taking no chances.

Great mental anguish is accompanied by no clarity of thought and graves no connected memories on the mind. I know I suffered, but there are only fragments of recollections covering that black period of waiting.

I have a clear picture of the warrior holding the end of the cord calling for some one to bring a gourd of water. I do not remember drinking, but as later I found the front of my shirt soaked I a.s.sume the water was for me.

Coherent memory resumes with the noise the warriors made in returning to the camp. I shall never forget their appearance as they emerged from the undergrowth. Black Hoof walked ahead. Close behind him came two warriors dragging Dale.

I was amazed to behold Patricia in the procession. She was leaning on Lost Sister's arm, and there was a lump on her forehead as though she had been struck most brutally. Then came the warriors and Ward. Dale was roughly thrown to the ground. Several men began tr.i.m.m.i.n.g the branches from a stout sapling. Others became busy searching the fallen timber for dry wood.

Ward walked over to me and kicked me in the side. I must have groaned aloud, for he commanded:

"Shut up! I'm ripe for a killing."

Matters had gone against his liking. He played with his ax nervously, his baleful gaze darting about the camp. I waited and at last his race heritage compelled him to talk, and he commenced:

"The old man was scared into doing what the chief told him to do. He would not at first, and the men were sent to bring the girl along. When he faced her he made a noise like a sheep bleating. Then he ran to the clearing and began his talk. The girl heard his words. She broke away and ran into sight of the cabins and screamed for them not to listen, that it was a trap. Black Hoof struck her with the flat of his ax. Now he swears he'll roast the fool."

"She is your prisoner!" I cried.

"He says she must burn."

"There must be some way, something you can do!" I wildly insisted, my only thought being to spare her the immediate danger.

"I want her for my squaw bad enough to get her if I can," he growled. "But if I'm to think of any plan I must be quick. They've got the stake nearly ready."

He walked to where the warriors were collecting small fuel from between the fallen trees. One of them hauled a hollow maple log out of the debris and threw it to one side as being too heavy for a quick fire. Ward halted and rested a foot on it and bowed his head. Next he began tapping it with his tomahawk. His actions attracted the attention of the men, and Black Hoof asked:

"What does Red Arrow think is in the log? A snake?"

Ward startled the savages, and also me, by curtly replying:

"He sees a white man's cannon in the log. The fort holds all the settlers on the creek. Its walls are stout. If they can be broken down the Shawnees will take many scalps and prisoners. It will be an easy victory. Black Hoof's name will be repeated far beyond Kaskaskia and the Great Lakes in the North. He will be given many new war-names."

Black Hoof's eyes glittered as he pictured the glory and prestige the hollow log might confer upon him. He examined the log carefully and perceived only that it was hollow.

"Have you medicine to make it into a cannon?" he asked.

"I have big medicine. Before it will work for me I must be given the white squaw. There must be no taking back of the gift. If the medicine-cannon does not give the settlers into our hands still the white squaw must be mine to do with as I will."

Black Hoof took some minutes to ponder over this proposition. He could only see a hollow log. Ward's intellect permitted him to see greater possibilities. While he waited for the chief to make a decision he examined the maple more thoroughly, and smiled quietly.

Black Hoof at last said:

"Cataheca.s.sa gives the white woman to the Red Arrow. Tell your medicine to make the big gun shoot."

Ward was exultant. To the wondering savages he explained:

"It must be bound tight with much rawhide. Small stones must be packed tight in the b.u.t.t-end. I will make a hole for the priming. Then we will draw it to the clearing and load it with powder and rocks."

This simple expedient, superior to the best plans of the Indians, was greeted with yells of triumph. The chief said:

"Red Arrow is a medicine-man."

The wooden tube was reinforced under Ward's directions. This done, the savages danced and whooped about the grotesque cannon for some minutes.

Ward stood with folded arms, his gaze gloating as it rested on the girl, and haughty with pride as he observed Black Hoof's respectful bearing.

Coming back to me he said:

"You wanted that woman. You will die among the Shawnees. You showed you wanted her when you followed her into that valley. Her father spoke of you and by his words I knew you wanted her. Now I have her."

The girl came forward, attracted by Ward's speech to me, although she could understand none of it. She drew aside in pa.s.sing the renegade and dropped on her knees at my side.

"What do they plan? What will they do with me?" her dry lips demanded.

Ward, enraged by her show of aversion, seized her by the shoulder, ripping the cloth, and dragged her to her feet, and informed her:

"Cataheca.s.sa ordered his men to burn you. I made him give you to me. You are my woman. You are lucky I am not a red man."

"No! No! I'll burn, you monster! I'll burn a hundred times," she panted.

And she struck her hand into his face, whereat the savages shouted in merriment.

I believed he would kill her then and there, for he groaned aloud from rage and raised his ax over his head.

"Strike me!" she begged, facing the uplifted ax unflinchingly; and although not of the border she displayed the fine courage of the Widow McCabe and other frontier women.

With a whimpering, b.e.s.t.i.a.l note Ward managed to say:

"No! You shall live, and many times beg me to kill you. But you shall still live till I trade you to some red hunter."

"I will kill myself some way before you can harm me!" she defied.

Ward slowly lowered his ax and began chuckling. He told her, pointing to me:

"This man. He loved you. He was a fool. I say was because his life is behind him. It is something that is finished, a trace followed to the end.

He is a dead man as he lies there. He loved you. I believe you loved him.

He is my prisoner. Now you can guess why I know you will not harm yourself."

I knew. She was suffering too much to reason clearly. But he was eager to help her to understand He amplified by explaining:

"It will be for you to say if he is to be tortured. He is young and strong. We could keep him alive many days after the fire began to burn him. It will be a fine game to see whom you love the better, yourself or him. You will be free to go about the camp. But this man will be watched all the time. After we take the fort to-night you will come to me and ask to be my woman.

"I had planned to take your father for my second prisoner. My medicine tells me to take this man as he will live longer. Remember; you will ask to be my squaw. That sapling was trimmed for you; it will do for this man.

You will come to me, or he goes to the stake. Now, go!"

And he reached out his hand and sent her spinning and reeling toward her father.

"You dog! Set me free, empty-handed, and you take a knife and ax, and I will show the Shawnees what a poor dog you are," I told him in Shawnee.