that the life of the white man
should be spared?"

"My brother did not mean what he said when he asked that his enemy
might be permitted to run away. Who, when he catches a wolf, says,
'Wolf, Indian set the trap only to see whether it would hold fast your
legs. The wise hunter talks not so, but strikes the wolf on the
head.'"

"Sassacus," said Joy, "this may not be. If you had caught Master
Spikeman, by your own cunning, it might have been different; but it
was the white girl and I who devised the scheme, and I told you where
to place the ambuscade, which has been successful. Were you to murder
this man, the guilt would rest more on Prudence and me than on you,
whose savage and un-Christian notions may partly excuse so dreadful an
act."

"My brother's heart is soft, like moss, but the heart of Sassacus is a
stone. My brother must learn to harden his heart, and he shall soon
behold a punishment becoming a great Sagamore. My brother thinks and
feels like a Christian. Good! but he must let Sassacus feel like an
Indian."

"Let him go," said Joy, "and he shall pay you store of wampompeag and
colored cloth. Of what use can it be to you to put him to a horrid
death?"

"Wampompeag and colored cloth are good, but Sassacus is a great chief,
and they cannot make him forget an injury. Before the white men came,
his ancestors punished and rewarded, and he will not surrender the
prerogative of his family."

"By the bones of my father," swore the soldier, "I will not permit
this cold-blooded murder. Hated I him ten-fold more than I do, I would
defend his life at the hazard of my own. Where is my gun?" he demanded
fiercely, seeking after it. "Who has dared to remove it?"

"Sassacus took it away, that his brother might do no mischief with
it," said the Pequot.

"False Indian!" exclaimed the soldier, passionately; "call me not
again your brother. I will have nothing to do with one whose promises
cannot bind, and who loves revenge more than honor."

"Sassacus never breaks his word, but, if he did, it would be only
imitating the white men. Would my brother speak to my prisoner, whom,
at this moment, he loves more than the justice of an Indian?"

"Why should I speak to him, when I should hear only curses?"

"Then remain here to behold the punishment of the bad white man."

He strode out of the lodge, while the soldier, burning with
indignation, disposed himself so that, unseen, he might notice all
that was done, and determ