and scowling interpreter
walked away.

The prisoner's clothes were restored to him, and he was permitted to
remain unbound. Thanks to the intimation of the interpreter, he was
aware of the fate in reserve for him, and resolved that he would never
be carried alive to Waughcotomoco. Their route lay through an unprimed
forest, abounding in thickets and undergrowth. During the whole of the
march, Kenton remained abstracted and silent; often meditating an effort
for the recovery of his liberty, and as often shrinking from the peril
of the attempt.

At length he was aroused from his reverie by the Indians firing off
their guns, and raising the shrill scalp-halloo. The signal was soon
answered, and the deep roll of a drum was heard far in front, announcing
to the unhappy prisoner, that they were approaching an Indian town,
where the gauntlet, certainly, and perhaps the stake awaited him.

The idea of a repetition of the dreadful scenes he had just encountered,
overcame his indecision, and, with a sudden and startling cry, he sprung
into the bushes, and fled with the speed of a wild deer. The pursuit was
instant and keen. Some of his pursuers were on horseback, some on foot.
But he was flying for his life. The stake and the hot iron, and the
burning splinters were before his eyes, and he soon distanced the
swiftest hunter in pursuit.

But fate was against him at every turn. Thinking only of the enemy
behind, he forgot that there might be an enemy before; and he suddenly
found that he had plunged into the center of a fresh party of horsemen,
who had sallied from the town at the firing of the guns, and happened,
unfortunately, to stumble upon the poor prisoner, now making a last
effort for freedom. His heart sunk at once from the ardor of hope to the
lowest pit of despair, and he was again haltered and driven into
captivity like an ox to the slaughter.

On the second day he arrived at Waughcotomoco. Here he was again
compelled to run the gauntlet, in which he was severely hurt.
Immediately after this ceremony, he was taken to the council-house, and
all the warriors once more assembled to determine his fate.

He sat silent and dejected upon the floor of the cabin, when the door of
the council-house opened, and Simon Girty, James Girty, John Ward, and
an Indian, came in with a woman as a prisoner, together with seven
children and seven scalps. Kenton was immediately removed from the
council-house, and the deliberations of th