m to this condition.

Suddenly he heard a dry stick crackle. He was lying with his face
uphill, away from the fire, but at the sound he turned over and looked
toward the few smouldering embers of the camp-fire. Instantly hope
blazed up in his heart. He was saved! In his previous struggles he
had been reckless, not caring how much noise he made, but with the
return of hope came cunning and stealth. For a few minutes after
hearing that welcome crackle of fire, he lay still and gazed at the
thin smoke which coiled lazily up in one or two spirals from a glowing
wood-coal here and there. Then he began to move forward. His limbs
were bound so tightly that they had no power of separate movement, but
he succeeded in twisting his body in such a way that, very slowly and
with an expenditure of great energy, he managed to get nearer and
nearer the fire. It took the bound man two hours to cover a distance
of three yards. Once the mind of a savage is made up to do a thing,
time is of no object at all. An eye-blink, the hours between sunrise
and sunset, a moon, or a season, it doesn't matter. He will persist in
his intention though he die with the thing unfinished. It is
civilization which breeds impatience.

At last Eagle was up against the fire. His hands were bound behind
him. For a minute or two he looked intently at the grey ashes in which
a few little red-hot embers were glowing, till he decided on one which
was larger and hotter than any of the others. Then he deliberately
rolled over till his bound wrists were right in the ashes. There is no
pain worse than burning. A man will draw his hand away from fire at
all costs. Several parts of the man's body were actually in the fire,
but he endured it all and steeled himself to fight back the greater
agony which throbbed at his wrists. The fire touched the green-hide
and singed the white bull hair, giving off a pungent smell. Eagle
sniffed it greedily. It helped him to bear the terrible pain, for it
was a proof that the fire was doing its work.

It is impossible to tell how long that wild man endured such fearful
torture for freedom's sake. Agony is not measured by the clock. His
eyelids were shut tight, his teeth were clenched, his breath came in
deep gasps, and every nerve and sinew in his body seemed to be
quivering. He would rather die than call out, yet the effort to keep
back the yells of pain was almost worse than death. In spite of what
it must ha