nough if I die? I am old, and my life does not
matter. Or if one is not sufficient, take me and my son, and let the
lad, my grandson, go free. We are all of us innocent of any witchcraft,
and he is not even old enough to practise such things, being but an
unmarried boy. Chief, you, also, are young. Would not your heart be
heavy if you had to be slain when the sun of your life was still new in
the sky? Think, White Chief, what your father would feel, if you have
one, should he be forced to see you killed before his eyes, that some
stranger might use your body to show his skill with a magic weapon by
slaying the wild things that would eat it."

Now, almost with tears, I broke in, explaining to the venerable man as
well as I could that their horrible fate had nothing to do with me. I
told him that I was innocent of their blood, who was forced to be
there to try to shoot vultures on the wing in order to save my white
companions from a doom similar to their own. He listened attentively,
asking a question now and again, and when he had mastered my meaning,
said with a most dignified calmness:

"Now I understand, White Man, and am glad to learn that you are not
cruel, as I thought. My children," he added, turning to the others, "let
us trouble this Inkoos no more. He only does what he must do to save the
lives of his brethren by his skill, if he can. If we continue to plead
with him and stir his heart to pity, the sorrow swelling in it may cause
his hand to shake, and then they will die also, and their blood be on
his head and ours. My children, it is the king's will that we should
be slain. Let us make ready to obey the king, as men of our House have
always done. White lord, we thank you for your good words. May you live
long, and may good fortune sleep in your hut to the end. May you shoot
straight, also, with your magic tool, and thereby win the lives of your
company out of the hand of the king. Farewell, Inkoos," and since he
could not lift his bound hands in salutation, he bowed to me, as did the
others.

Then they walked to a little distance, and, seating themselves on the
ground, began to talk together, and after a while to drone some strange
chant in unison. The executioners and the guards also sat down not far
away, laughing, chatting, and passing a horn of snuff from hand to hand.
Indeed, I observed that the captain of them even took some snuff to the
victims, and held it in his palm beneath their noses while they