"Go on, then," said Darling. "Spit out the pretty story you have cooked
up."

Little Moccasin gave the speaker a glance of hatred, and then said in
her silvery tone:

"Areotha comes from the Blacksnake's spy. The guide is dead; he sleeps
where the storm tore down the trees. Fair Face says that he will soon
bring the white girl back to her people!"

"And he sent you here to say this?" said Carl Merriweather, in a tone
which told that he did not believe a word which had fallen from the
girl's lips.

"He told Areotha to tell the mother and the father this, that their eyes
might get bright again."

"It is a pretty story, but it don't go down," Carl said.

The black eyes flashed again.

"You might as well have told us that Kate was in the camp now," said
George Darling.

"That is so!"

"We believe that you are the biggest mischief-maker in these parts. Who
knows how many young men you have decoyed to their doom by your smiles.
And now you have another in your net--a brave young fellow, but blind
enough to follow your infernal witchery to his death. Come, lay your
rifle down; we want to deal with you as you deserve."

"If we let you off with a whole skin you may thank our mercy," said Carl
with a smile.

Little Moccasin, finding herself completely in the power of the young
men, hesitated a moment, and then dropping her rifle, surrendered
herself. There was no pity in her captor's eyes, and her pale face made
them laugh outright.

"A little whipping--that is all!" said George Darling, fiendishly, as he
seized the girl's arm and led her to a tree that stood near by.

While Carl guarded her, his companion stripped a lynn tree of its bark
covering, which he converted into ropes, and returned to the selected
tree.

Blushing at the purposed indignity, the girl permitted herself to be
lashed to the tree--her cheek against the bark--but with pressed lips
and flashing eyes.

This operation performed, a number of keen withes were selected, and
armed with several bundles which had been converted into whips as
cutting as the Russian knout, the gallant young bordermen approached
their captive.

"Now my forest lady," said Darling, sarcastically, "we'll give you a
dressing that will not be forgotten on your dying day. Come, now,
confess that you are a forest witch in league with Jim Girty and his
minions, red and white."

"The Manitou knows that Areotha never lifted a hand against the American
people."

"Lying