The Scranton tribune. [volume] (Scranton, Pa.) 1891-1910, 1895-10-09

the fort was in the opposite direction,
and the sort of start l made would ne
cesitate long detour. The red rascals
had evidently thought of nothing of
this sort, and Were resting-and plot
without paying much attention to
the need of watching. l got clear away,
undiscovered, to a distance of not less
than mile.
had felt compelled. however. to let
the horse walk all the way, and the
time had seemed fearfully long. And
twelve hours. less the time had taken
for the trip, was so dreadfully short
for what must be done. 1t may be a
selfish thing to say, but, as l started out
to tell the full and exact truth. / am
going to say it: / think I should have
reached the fort, safely and in good
season, if Millie Davis hadn't been in
danger. AS it was, / commenced my
detour when I had only a mile for the
radius of the arc l took-when two
miles would have been better, and let
my horse out to a trOt toward the end
of my short ride when keeping him to
a walk would probably have saved me.
] don't doubt the sound of the horses
feet was heard. A half dozen savages.
on foot, matched the long curve In
which / rode with a singularly short
line. The thing was absurdedly simple.
They rose up, suddenly all about me.
They shot my horse through the head,
and down he went, all ina heap, stone
dead, and with me under him. They
Were upon me, and had me bound, hand
and foot, before l could get my hand
upon weapon. I was helpless cap
tive, though absolutely unhurt save
for bruise or two got in my fall, and
hadn't got over a mile and a quarter
from fh.. of oil Thara
was only one feature of the whole affair
that gave me the least satisfaction.
(Have you ever noticed that a philoso-
pher can find something Of satisfac-
tion In any situation In life? The
villains shouted so fiercely when they
got me- that my friends could have no
doubt as to what had happened; that
would be better, on the whole than to
have them wsar their hearts out, in
their last morning, watching for the
help that would never come.
The Indians did not long delay in let
ting me know the fate in store for me.
Though 1 didn't doubt the character Of
1t from the moment they first got their
evil hands upon me. The torture. with
all It's refinement Of cruelty, must be
lived through-and died out Of! One
red rascal in particular, evidently
chief of great importance, was particu-
larly anoyng in his gestures and
grimaces; he pointed to his head-his
1eg-his arm-in a way I could not un-
derstand; then he would point to me.
and chuckle and gurgle like a fiend,
while the look in his face came as near
being a laugh as the paint on the sur
face-and the utter depravity behind 1t
-1would permit.
Morning came. No attack on my
friends. Noon. And still no attack.
And my captors were preparing to
give the beleaguered whites an exhibit
tion of the way in which they dealt
with the unfortunate. They were going
to burn me alive, in full view of my
friends.
They were wonderfully deliberate
about Vt. They did not allow themselves
to hurry at all. I, counting out agon-
izedly the length of life left me, guessed
that the sun would not be more than an
hour high when the ordeal would begin.
Pray God, should not live to see 1t SET!
This delay-this gain of time-would
have been Of enestimable value to my
friends-if they had not been beyond
hope. They were as helpless as an open