"Well done, my old worthy companion! and are you really there, carrying out another of your noble and humane designs? When, O when, I humbly beg to know, will your philanthropic efforts end? I suppose not until death has laid his claim, and the devil has got his due. You ask us if we know you. What! not know the amiable Simon Girty, surnamed the Renegade? Could you indeed for a moment suppose such a thing possible? Know you? Why, we have an untrusty, worthless cur-dog in the fort here, that has been named Simon Girty, in compliment to you--he is so like you in every thing that is ugly, wicked and mean. You say you expect reinforcements of artillery. Well, if you stay in this quarter long, I know of no one that will be more likely to need them than yourself and the cowardly cut-throats who call you chief. We too expect reinforcements; for the country is roused in every direction; and if you remain here twenty-four hours longer, the scalps of yourself and companions will be drying on our cabins. Bring on your cannon and blaze away as soon as you please! We shall fear you not, even then; for if you succeed in entering, along with your naked, rascally companions, we shall set our old women to work, and have you scourged to death with rods, of which we have on hand a goodly stock for the purpose. And now to wind up, allow me to say I believe you to be a liar, and _know_ you to be a most depraved, inhuman villain. This knowledge of your character is not second-hand. I paid dearly for it, by a year's captivity. I defied you when in your power: I spit at and defy you now in behalf of the garrison! My name you may remember. It is Algernon Reynolds. What would you more?"[23] "Would that I had you in my power again," shouted back Girty; "for by ----! I would willingly forego all other vengeance on the whites, to take my revenge on you. I regret the garrison did not choose some one to reply who was not already doomed to death. It was my desire to save bloodshed; but my offer has been rejected from the mouth of one I hate; and now I leave you to your fate. To-morrow morning will see your bulwarks in ruins, and yourselves, your wives and little ones, in the power of a foe that never forgives an injury nor forgets an insult. Farewell till then! I bide my time." As Girty concluded altogether, he began to ease himself down from the stump, when his progress was not a little accelerated by hearing a voice from the garrison cry out: "Shoot the ---- rascal!--don't let him escape!"