eeply, and
said, in rather mournful tones--

"The jig's up with us, Joe. If I was only loose seven seconds, you
wouldn't ketch me dying like a coon here agin a tree." Joe made no
other response than a blubbering sound, while the tears ran down and
dropped briskly from his chin.

[Illustration: Joe and Sneak in difficulty.--P. 194]

The savages gave vent to a burst of laughter when they beheld the
agony of fear that possessed their captive. The three that were in
favour of the slow torture now turned a deaf ear to the old warrior,
and advanced to Joe. They held the palms of their hands under his
chin, and caught the tears as they fell. They then stroked his head
gently, and appeared to sympathize with the sufferer.

"Mr. Indian, if you'll let me go, I'll give you my gun and twenty
dollars," said Joe, appealing most piteously to the one that placed
his hand on his head. The Indian seemed to understand him, and held
his hand out for the money, while a demoniac smile played on his dark
lips.

"Just untie my hands," said Joe, endeavouring to look behind, "and
I'll go right straight home and get them."

"You rascal--you want to run away," replied the old Indian, who not
only understood Joe's language, but could himself speak English
imperfectly.

"Upon my sacred word and honour, I won't!" replied Joe.

"You lie!" said the savage, bestowing a severe smack on Joe's face.

"Oh, Lord! Come now, Mr. Indian, that hurts!"

"No--don't hurt--only kill musketer," replied the savage, laughing
heartily, and striking his prisoner on the other side of the face.

"Oh! hang your skin!" cried Joe, endeavouring to break away, "if ever
I get you in my power, I'll smash--" Here his sudden courage
evaporated, and again the tears filled his eyes.

"Poor fellow!" said the savage, patting his victim on the head. "How
much you give for him?" he continued, pointing to Sneak.

"If you'll only let _me_ go, I'll give you every thing I've got in the
world. He don't want to live as bad as I do, and I'll give you as much
for me alone as I will for both."

"You're a purty white man, now, ain't you?" said Sneak. "But its all
the same. My chance is jest as good as your'n. They're only fooling
you, jest to laugh. I've made up my mind to die, and I ain't a going
to make any fun for 'em. And you might as well say your prayers fust
as last; they're only playing with you now like a cat with a mice."

The old Indian moved towards Sneak, followed b