could do the reverse. So in this case,instead of coming on with a wild rush or a warlike shout, they paused,and quietly waited till their companions swarmed up. Meanwhile, WildEye had killed his horse, and also Tom's fallen one. Why leave the poorbrutes to fall into the hands of the enemy? Then the three entrenchedthemselves as well as they could behind them, and waited events.

  "They had not very long to wait, either. A volley was fired by thesavages who had guns. It was returned with interest, and as they werecrowded together it must have had terrible effect.

  "The yelling and buzzing was now frightful. It was as threatening asthat which proceeds from a hollow tree with a hornet's nest in it whenyou kick the trunk.

  "And just as hornets rush out from their hive, so rushed those Indiansnow on, spreading out, and entirely surrounding the three brave men,shrieking and brandishing their tomahawks.

  "My grand-dad said he never understood what put it into Wild Eye's headto sing out `Surrender!' but he did, and at once there was peace and aparley. The two Britishers would have preferred fighting to the bitterend, and having it over; but as most of the attacking savages had laiddown their weapons, they felt in duty bound to cease firing, and submitto the fortune of war--to the inevitable.

  "Tom and my grand-dad were bound with withes and tied together. WildEye was tied to an Indian, then without further palaver the marchwestward was commenced.

  "My grandfather forgot how long they were on that terrible journey intothe fastnesses of the far west. It must have been, he thought, fully afortnight.

  "They were fatigued beyond measure, footsore, heartsick, and weary. Ifthey had entertained any hopes at first of being treated as prisoners ofwar, and in due time exchanged, every day's journey served to dispel theillusion.

  "Poor Wild Eye fell sick, and was slain. His wig was hung at the girdleof one of his captors, his body left to swelter in the sun, till birdsand beasts should eat his flesh and ants pick his bones.

  "Grand-dad was sufficiently conversant with the language of this tribeto know what the doom was that he and Tom had to look forward to. Theywere being hurried away to the wigwam village of their captors, to betortured at the hands of squaws. The chief of the party evencondescended to enliven the last few miles of the journey, by tellinghis prisoners such tales of the torture, that, brave though they were,made the blood run cold along their spines.

  "At last they reached the Indian village, which they entered just as thesun was setting among clouds all fringed with gold and crimson above thewestern hills.

  "What a smiling, peaceful valley it seemed. The purple mist of distancehung like a gauzy veil over the mountain tops, a blue haze half hid thegreenery of the woods, there were parks of verdure dotted over withflowering trees and bushes, in which bright-winged birds flitted orsang. Deer roamed quietly about, or stood drowsily chewing the cud, andup through the trees on the banks of a broad, placid river, rose thesmoke from the village fires.

  "The whole scene was almost home-like in its gentle beauty. Who couldhave believed that it had been and would be the scene of a torture sorefined and terrible that one shudders even to think of it?"

  Book 2--CHAPTER EIGHT.

  CAPTAIN JAMES CONTINUES HIS STORY--ON THE SUBTERRANEAN RIVER.

  "Forth from the dark recesses of the cave The serpent came With searching eye, and lifted jaw and tongue, Quivering and hissing as a heavy shower Upon the summer woods."

  Scene: The quarter-deck of the barque. Officers at the table. Mencrowded with eager faces, respectfully listening to their captain'sstory.

  The preparations for the torture were finished ere the village sunk toslumber that night. Tied hand and foot, my grandfather and Tom laybeneath a tree. They could not sleep, and they cared not to talk; allhope had fled, and the gloom and terror of death were in their hearts.

  "The night was clear and beautiful, and the stars never looked brighteror more impressive, but cold and heartless, as indeed seemed everything.Sometimes a dog would come round and snuff at them, then start back inalarm, and sit for long minutes and howl. When the dogs were silentthere were wild, unearthly shrieks heard in the distant woods, doubtlessthe voices of birds and beasts of prey.

  "Towards morning both prisoners fell into an uneasy doze, and wereawakened at last by the joyful shouts of a band of Indians from aneighbouring village, who had come to share in the festival in which Tomand my grandfather were to play so prominent a part." Skipper Jamespaused a minute here to relight his pipe.

  "Ah, mates!" he continued, "I've often wondered what my grandfather'sfeelings and poor Tom Turner's must have been when they were draggedout, and tied to trees on the torture ground, with the femaleexecutioners all ready, and pining to see the white men's blood, theknives sharpened, the torture irons heated to redness, and that awfulcircle of upturned faces, in which they must have looked in vain for onepitying glance.

  "`Good-bye, John,' cried Tom.

  "`Good-bye, Tom,' cried my grandfather, as two vicious-looking squawsapproached him, one carrying a knife, the other a white-hot iron rod.

  "`Hold!' cried an old white-haired chief, stalking into the circle.

  "Every one looked impatiently towards him.

  "Why, they asked, should even a chief of chiefs attempt to spoil thesport?

  "But this was none other than Red Bull himself, one whose word had beenlaw for years.

  "He quickly gathered around him a dozen of the head warriors of thetribe.

  "`Your father would speak,' said Red Bull, when they had seatedthemselves around him, and close to the stakes or trees to which theprisoners were tied. `Your father would speak. To torture a white manis no pleasure. The white man screams like a squaw. Then he faints,soon he dies. Then gone for ever is the sport, for he feels no more.Send them rather beneath the earth to the silent spirit. The greatriver rolls through our valley. Soon it disappears. Every year ouryoung men are drawn beneath. Send the white men to seek them in thecaves of darkness. If they come not back the great serpent has devouredthem.'

  "The awful truth was soon revealed more plainly to the prisoners. Theywere to be placed in separate canoes, and sent adrift upon the riverthat flowed through this romantic valley, and which a few miles nearerthe mountains entered a yawning cave, and was never seen again.

  "Such a fate would have been enough to make the bravest hearts that everbeat stand still with fear. The torture itself seemed pleasure incomparison to it.

  "But the old chief's speech was hailed with shouts of acclamation, whilethose fiendish squaws brandishing their knives danced in a yellingcircle around the prisoners.

  "A certain amount of liberty was now granted them, but they were so wellguarded that thoughts of escape never entered their minds. They wereeven fed on milk and fruit, though they couldn't have had much heart toeat.

  "Next morning all preparations for this terrible voyage were completed.There were three canoes in all--one for grand-dad, one for Tom, and oneloaded with meat and grain as provisions. The three canoes were lashedtogether, and both prisoners were supplied with paddles.

  "They had been told the story of the great serpent the evening before,in order to add, if possible, to the torture of their terror.

  "The tradition about this frightful snake was, my grandfather said,common among a great many tribes, so you know there must have been somelittle truth in it. Whether it ever left its subterranean abode insummer or not no one was able to say; but when frost was hard andwinter's snow lay thick on the ground, it used to emerge at night fromthe black waters and caves of such rivers as that which flowed throughthis lovely fertile valley, and which suddenly disappeared. It used toemerge, I say, and travel far inward in search of prey, killing andswallowing whole buffaloes and even grizzly bears, which latter it wouldfollow to their dens, and devour them there. The trail it always leftbehind it told the beholder its size. It was as if a wide-beamed boathad been dragged along, with here and there at each side the imprint ofgigantic claws.

  "One
white man is said to have seen the monster on a bright moonlightnight, and its appearance was dreadful to behold. It was hurrying backtowards the river at its point of disappearance, with something in itsjaws; it was snorting, and the breath from its nostrils rose likesteam-clouds on the clear night air, its eyes glanced like green starsin a frosty sky. Arrived at the river, it sprang in, going out of sightat once with a booming plash.

  "Amidst the yells and shouts of the savages the canoes were started, theIndians following down the banks on both sides, brandishing knives andtomahawks. Just before its disappearance, the river narrowsconsiderably, and goes swirling through a gorge with great rapidity.

  "My grandfather says that at this point Tom Turner started singing `RuleBritannia!' and that his manly young voice could be heard high over theshouts of the savages. But grand-dad's