to sit in the shade of a tree, where he was guarded by two
stalwart warriors, not so much to prevent his escape, as to restrain
the inquisitive spectators who thronged about him. These were roused
to such a pitch of fury at the sight of one who had frustrated their
long-cherished plan for capturing the schooner, that, had they been
allowed, they would have torn him in pieces. Many of these were women,
who mocked at and reviled the unfortunate Englishman, screaming like so
many furies, spitting at him, and gloating over his miserable plight,
as is the custom of a certain grade of womankind all over the world.
Inspired by the example of their elders, a swarm of impish children
added their shrill cries to the tumult, let fly an occasional
blunt-headed arrow at the helpless captive, or darted between the legs
of the guards in their efforts to strike him. Finally the exasperated
warriors turned on this petty rabble and with stern words bade them
begone.

Others came for a look at the prisoner while he ate, and among them he
recognized the Zebra. This man he addressed in English, asking him
what was to be his fate, but the Indian only laughed and turned away.
Then came the young warrior whom he and Donald had thrown overboard a
few nights before, other members of the party with which he had
travelled to Presque Isle, and still others whom he recognized, until
it seemed as though every Indian he had ever seen had come to witness
his execution.

He knew it was to be an execution, and that he had naught in prospect
save death; but he hoped this might come speedily, and that in whatever
shape it approached, he might be given strength to meet it as became
one of his race and position. He had heard his branch of the service
spoken of lightly because physical courage was not supposed to be among
its requirements. Now he was to be given the opportunity for proving
that a staff officer could die as bravely as one of the line. If only
they would not burn him to death, as had been threatened. It seemed as
though he could bear anything else, but that was too horrible.

His melancholy reflections were interrupted by the passing of a noisy
group surrounding two who bore some burden. As they neared him, Bullen
saw with amazement that it was the bath-tub of which he had been so
proud, which had been the source of so much pleasure, in which he had
suffered, and the loss of which had been a source of genuine grief. It
had evidentl