d there.

"Let the palefaced dog roast in the flames!"

"Burn him!"

"Fling him into the fire!"

"He has sought our company; let us give him a warm welcome!"

"It will be a lesson to others of his kind not to meddle with our
prisoners!"

"Let him feel that the vengeance of the Wyandots is sudden and awful!"

These, with many similar cries, rent the night air, and though Donald
understood no word of what was said, he knew from the savage expression
of the faces crowding about him that he was to suffer some dreadful
fate, and nerved himself to bear it.

If he must die, it should be as became one of his race and training.
But, oh! it was hard! He was so young, so full of life and hope.
Could he hold out to the bitter end? Yes, he must. He had chosen to
be a soldier. He was a soldier. Other soldiers had met their death by
savage torture and faced it bravely. What they had done, he must do.
But was there no help for him, none at all? As he searched the
scowling faces of those who thronged about him, reviling, taunting, and
revelling in his despair, he saw no trace of mercy, no pity, no gleam
of hope. He knew that there was no help.

With it all, there was one consolation. He could discover no sign of
his beloved sister. She, at least, would be spared the sight of his
torments. She might even by some miracle have escaped.

They dragged him roughly, and with maudlin shoutings, to a small tree
that stood by itself, and bound him to it with so many lashings that
only his head was free to move. Then they heaped dry wood about him,
piling it up until it was above his waist.

He knew now what he was to be called upon to endure. No words were
needed to tell him that he was to be burned alive, and he prayed that
they would pile the wood higher, that death might come the more
quickly. But some among his tormentors thought it was already too
high, and in their desire to prolong his sufferings they tore away a
portion of the pile. Others insisted that it was not enough, and
attempted to build it higher; and so they wrangled among themselves,
until one, to settle the dispute, ran for a blazing brand and thrust it
among the faggots that still remained.

By this time, news of what was taking place had spread abroad, and many
from other scenes of revelry came running to participate in this new
diversion. As a bright blaze leaped through the crackling wood and
revealed distinctly the pallid face of the victim,