Wau, wau, tee, say,"

sung as a lullaby by one of the squaws, who had slung the wicker-work
frame, into which the papoose was strapped, across the limb of a tree
and swung it back and forth while she sang, as one would rock a
cradle.

"Poor little mummy," thought Rodney. "No wonder Indians can endure
pain. Tied into that framework straight as an arrow and unable to
brush away a mosquito or help themselves, they ought to learn to
endure anything."

CHAPTER IX

A WHITE BOY ADOPTED BY THE INDIANS

It already has appeared that Conrad's wish that he might be adopted by
the Indians, a thought which comforted him as he lay bound on the
first night of his captivity, had been realized; also that he had been
adopted by the old chief, Ahneota, who now wished to adopt Rodney.

As Conrad's experiences were such as the other lad might expect,
should he finally yield to the old Indian's desire, a brief account of
them may be found interesting.

Following the night of Conrad's capture the party travelled for two
days in a westerly direction. Just at dusk on the second day they came
to a small river. Here canoes were brought from hiding and all, save
one Indian who swam across with the horse, paddled to the other side
in the canoes.

Arriving on the other bank several guns were discharged, followed by
lusty yells that soon were responded to with like yells from over a
wooded ridge near the river. Within a few minutes squaws and papooses
came running to meet them.

Though Conrad was a stolid lad his pulse quickened, for he had heard
many tales of tortures inflicted by the savages. The Indian dogs
snapped at his heels; the children and some of the squaws tormented
him by pinching, slapping and threatening, to all of which the men
paid no heed and the boy tried to appear indifferent.

As they came near the village all the spectators formed in two lines,
between which he was ordered to run.

He was to run the gauntlet! For an instant his heart stopped beating,
the next, a sharp blow from a stick set the blood inherited from a
brave ancestry tingling through his veins.

Lowering his head he charged, as a mad bull charges, warding off what
blows he might with his sturdy arms. He was thwacked with clubs,
jabbed with sharpened sticks, tripped and pommelled till it seemed
that not an inch of his body escaped. One old hag threw a handful of
sand in his eyes and he stumbled, but crawled the few feet remaining
between wher