dred in number, who
marched in advance of the French contingent of the party
towards the selected camping-place. On the way their
barbarity to their helpless prisoner continued, culminating
in a blow with a tomahawk, which made a deep wound in his
left cheek.

This cruel treatment was but preliminary to a more fatal
purpose. It was their intention to burn their captive alive.
No sooner had they reached their camping-ground than they
led him into the forest depths, stripped him of his clothes,
bound him to a tree, and heaped dry fuel in a circle round
him. While thus engaged they filled the air with the most
fearful sounds to which their throats could give vent, a
pandemonium of ear-piercing yells and screams. The pile
prepared, it was set on fire. The flames spread rapidly
through the dry brush. But by a chance that seemed
providential, at that moment a sudden shower sent its
rain-drops through the foliage, extinguished the increasing
fire, and dampened the fuel.

No sooner was the rain over than the yelling savages applied
their torches again to the funeral pile of their living
victim. The dampness checked their efforts for a time, but
at length the flames caught, and a crimson glow slowly made
its way round the circle of fuel. The captive soon felt the
scorching heat. He was tied in such a way that he could move
his body, and he involuntarily shifted his position to
escape the pain,--an evidence of nervousness that afforded
the highest delight to his tormentors, who expressed their
exultation in yells, dances, and wild gesticulations. The
last hour of the brave soldier seemed at hand. He strove to
bring resolution to his aid, and to fix his thoughts on a
happier state of existence beyond this earth, the
contemplation of which might aid him to bear without
flinching, a short period of excruciating pain.

At this critical moment, when death in its most horrid form
stared him in the face, relief came. A French officer, who
had been told of what was in progress, suddenly bounded
through the savage band, kicked the blazing brands to right
and left, and with a stroke of his knife released the
imperilled captive. It was Molang himself. An Indian who
retained some instincts of humanity had informed him of what
was on foot. The French commander reprimanded his barbarian
associates severely, and led the prisoner away, keeping him
by his side until he was able to transfer him to the care of
the gigantic Indian who had