mornin'."

"There's little fear anything of that kind will happen, lad. The painted
devil never lived who was willin' to stand up an' fight face to face,
man-fashion."

"Then why are they goin' out of their encampment like a swarm of bees?"

"There's some mischief afoot, though what it is I can't rightly make out.
Perhaps St. Leger has summoned 'em to another powwow, in order that they
may know of our condition, as has been told by the deserters."

In a very few moments it was positive that this guess was not correct,
for, instead of crossing the creek to approach the British encampment, the
Indians halted when they were about midway between the fort, the camps of
the British soldiers, and the quarters of the Tories.

It was at a point where every man on either side could see what was being
done, and yet so far away that, save by a sortie, no one could molest
them.

I dare venture to say that every man in the garrison, save perhaps the
officers, was watching intently the movements of Thayendanega's gang, and
it was as if the knowledge of what was about to be done burst upon us all
at the same instant.

A low murmur of horror involuntarily came from our lips, and men said in
whispers, one to another, the blood suddenly leaving their bronzed faces:

"The Indians are going to torture prisoners!"

By this time we could see that two stout posts had been set firmly in the
earth, and around them were heaped piles of light wood, such as the squaws
and children were bringing up in great quantities.

Thayendanega's bloodthirsty crew was bent on showing us what would be our
fate if we fell into their clutches.

When the first shock of horror had passed away in a measure, there came
the question as to who might be the victims, and then those who had talked
mutiny and urged their fellows on to rankest insubordination turned pale
as death, while many of them walked totteringly away as if unable to
control their limbs. We all believed, and with good reason, that those
unfortunates who were to suffer death at the hands of the most
cruel-minded men God ever made, were none other than the deserters from
our ranks.

During the assault not one of the garrison had been taken prisoner, and
certain it was that the besiegers had not left the vicinity of the fort
for such length of time as would be sufficient to enable them to procure
captives elsewhere, therefore did we know beyond a peradventure who the
victims would be, but wh