th his hands tied behind him so that he could not
protect his face from the trees and bushes. This was repeated every day.
After three days he reached the town of Chillicothe, stiff, sore, and
bleeding.

Next morning he was led out to run the gauntlet. A row of men, women,
and boys, a quarter of a mile long, was formed, each with a tomahawk,
switch, or club; at the end of the line was an Indian with a big drum,
and beyond this was the council-house, which, if he reached, would for
the time being protect him. The moment for starting arrived; the big
drum was beaten; and Kenton sprang forward in the race. [Footnote: For
this part of Kenton's adventures compare the "Last of the Mohicans."]
Keeping his wits about him he suddenly turned to one side and darted off
with the whole tribe after him. His wonderful speed and activity enabled
him to keep ahead, and to dodge those who got in his way, and by a
sudden double he rushed through an opening in the crowd, and reached the
council-house, having been struck but three or four blows.

He was not further molested that evening. Next morning a council was
held to decide whether he should be immediately burnt at the stake, or
should first be led round to the different villages. The warriors sat in
a ring to pass judgment, passing the war club from one to another; those
who passed it in silence thereby voted in favor of sparing the prisoner
for the moment, while those who struck it violently on the ground thus
indicated their belief that he should be immediately put to death. The
former prevailed, and Kenton was led from town to town. At each place he
was tied to the stake, to be switched and beaten by the women and boys;
or else was forced to run the gauntlet, while sand was thrown in his
eyes and guns loaded with powder fired against his body to burn his
flesh.

Once, while on the march, he made a bold rush for liberty, all unarmed
though he was; breaking out of the line and running into the forest. His
speed was so great and his wind so good that he fairly outran his
pursuers; but by ill-luck, when almost exhausted, he came against
another party of Indians. After this he abandoned himself to despair. He
was often terribly abused by his captors; once one of them cut his
shoulder open with an axe, breaking the bone.

His face was painted black, the death color, and he was twice sentenced
to be burned alive, at the Pickaway Plains and at Sandusky. But each
time he was saved at th