I shall then
impatiently await your coming at the Falls."

The bold girl with a trembling hand cut away the gyves that held the
prisoner, and then, departing, exchanged a few words with one of the
young men who guarded the hut, and who instantly forsook his post to
follow her footsteps. Wauchee hurriedly glanced around, to discover some
article that might serve as a weapon, and, snatching up a small billet
of wood that lay on the hearth, sprang to the door, and with one furious
blow felled the solitary sentinel to the earth, and then stretched
swiftly away in flight. But numbers of warriors, aroused by the sound of
the blow, were instantly after him in hot pursuit. The flying Wauchee
was most remarkable for his fleetness of foot, and could easily have
distanced his pursuers, but for his wounded ankle, which greatly impeded
his motions; and in a short time, after a desperate struggle, he was
overpowered, and roughly dragged back to the place of his captivity.

Again did the fair Monega, whose agency in his attempted flight had not
been suspected, attend upon her wounded lover; but so vigilant were his
guards, that an attempt at escape seemed now impossible.

In the lapse of a few days, the prisoner, under her skilful treatment,
had entirely recovered from his injuries, and a day was appointed for
his death. He was doomed to "run the gauntlet" of the tribe; that is, he
was required to run between two lines of warriors and of women and
children, armed with thongs of hide and small rods, which each one was
to use upon his person as the fugitive passed them in full career. On a
bright and cheerful morning the luckless prisoner was loosened from his
bonds, and led forth to run his race; after which he was doomed to
perish at the stake. But the brave youth stepped forth with an undaunted
eye, and a firm tread, to the place of torment. He eyed with a fearless
and contemptuous glance the fearful preparations made for punishment;
the long lines of his enemies ready with their rods to strike at him;
and the blackened pole of sacrifice surrounded with its pile of faggots.

He took his post at the head of the arranged lines, ready to plunge
through the thicket of rods that were menacing him. For a moment before
the start, he glanced his eye along the dark faces that scowled upon
him, to discern the fair form of Monega, but he observed her not. At
length the two men that held him loosened their grasp, and he was
directed to use hi