"What shall we do with the pale one?" they shouted. A score of old women had rushed to where I lay, and shaking their fists in my face, they taunted and jeered at me. Some of them had thongs of deerskin with which they beat my helpless body, as I lay there bound and tied, and I firmly believe they would have torn me to pieces in their fury, had not the braves who guarded me interfered and driven them away. And now they cleared an open space of about ten square yards about me, and two great braves, picking me up in their arms, carried me to the middle of it, and dumped me upon the ground, after which they placed a log of wood under my head. A great brawny warrior strode forward to where I lay, a jagged club in his hands. Leaning upon his weapon, he looked down at me. "Does the heart of the Eagle faint within him?" he taunted. I made no answer, for I thanked God that they were to end my suffering quickly with one blow, and not by the fire and stake or the gauntlet. The warrior still looked at me, with a fierce smile upon his face. "Were it not that the Cherokees expect at any moment the return of the chief Windango, who might save thee, we would put thee to the torture and the stake. Our time is short, and thou mayest thank the Great Spirit thy end will be quick and merciful." And with that he raised the great club high above his head and as he did so a lithe figure darted out from among the throng, and caught his arm with a quick jerk as it descended. The weapon swerved to one side, and fell harmlessly upon the ground near my head. It was Winona. "Thou shalt not kill him!" she wailed. "Put a weapon in his hands and let the Eagle face thee; then thou shalt know that he is a warrior." With a growl of fury the Indian struggled to throw her aside, as, with the strength of despair, she clung to his arm with the grip of a bulldog. "He shall die!" he answered fiercely. "Loose me, girl, or I will beat out thy brains with my fist." And with a threatening scowl upon his angry face, he raised his knotted fists. "Loose him, Winona," I shouted to her. "Thou hast done thy best for me, for which I thank thee. Thou canst do no more." "No," she sobbed, "he shall not slay thee." And she fought and struggled with the brave. A dozen warriors now sprang to the rescue of their leader, and catching the girl by main strength, they dragged her from the panting and furious Indian. Holding her, weeping and struggling, they shouted for him to strike. A second time he raised his club to strike, but the girl, with superhuman effort, had wrenched herself loose from her captors, and bounding forward, cast herself upon my body. "If thou slayest him," she sobbed, "thou wilt slay Winona also. Now strike, if thou darest." Under ordinary conditions he would not have dared to slay the daughter of the chief, but he was infuriated beyond control and beside himself with rage. "Then die!" he shouted, and with a fierce snarl he raised his club again.