ized his own precious
rifle, in which he had taken such pride and delight. It was too bad.
Then the thought flashed into his mind, would he ever again care for a
rifle or anything else in this world? What did Indians do with
prisoners? Tortured them, and put them to death, of course. Did not all
the stories he had ever read agree on that point? Could it be possible
that he, Glen Eddy, was to be tortured, perhaps burned at the stake? Was
that what coming out on the Plains meant? Had life with all its hopes
and joys nearly ended for him? It could not be! There must be some
escape from such a horrible fate! The poor boy gazed about him wildly,
but saw only the endless sea of grass stretching to the horizon on all
sides, and the stern faces of his captors, one of whom held the end of a
lariat that was fastened about the mule's neck.

They all carried bows and arrows slung to their backs, as well as rifles
that lay across their knees. They wore moccasins and leggings of
buckskin, but no clothing above their waists. Their saddles were simply
folded blankets, which would be their covering at night. In place of
stirrups they used strips of buffalo hide with a loop at each end. These
were thrown across the blanket saddles, and the feet of the riders were
supported in the loops. One of them had a pair of field-glasses slung by
a strap from his shoulders.

Until nearly noon they pushed westward across the trackless undulations
of the prairie, and Glen became so faint from hunger and thirst, and so
stiff from his painful position, that he could hardly retain his seat.
His mule was a long-limbed, raw-boned animal, whose gait never varied
from an excruciatingly hard trot. Finally, the boy's sufferings reached
such a point that it was all he could do to keep from screaming, and he
wondered if any torture could be worse.

At length they came to a tiny stream, fringed with a slender growth of
willows, and here a long rest was taken. Glen could not stand when his
ankles were unbound, and he was allowed to slip from the mule's back,
but fell heavily to the ground. The Indian boy said something to his
companions, one of whom replied with a grunt, whereupon the lad unbound
the prisoner's arms, and helped him to reach the edge of the stream. He
was wonderfully revived by plunging his head into the cool water, and
the young Indian, who seemed a good-natured sort of a chap, assisted to
restore the circulation in his wrists and ankles by rubb