The victory was complete. Nearly all that had so silently floated down the river the night before, were now locked in the cold embrace of death, and as the sun set in the western horizon, and the earth became enshrouded in the mantle of night, death reigned in silence. While the conflagration was going on, and while the flames, like forked arrows were hissing through the branches of the trees, and amid the groans of the wounded, burning and dying, which could be heard above the crackling of the falling wood, the tall, erect form of Cahoonshee appeared in the front ground, on the highest pinnacle of Point Peter, with Rolla standing by his side. Feelings of satisfaction and regret occupied his mind. Satisfaction that the murderers of his fathers were punished. Regret that the white man would seize upon this opportunity to appropriate the land to themselves. The smoke lifted for a moment, and looking toward Mount William, he saw the forms of five dusky Salamanques crouching in the brush. It is finished, he said. My time has come. But I will not die by the hands of the Salamanques. I will throw myself from these rocks, and be buried by my friends, the Delawares. You die by the fagot—not by the fall! exclaimed a voice behind him. Turning, he saw three tomahawks raised. To advance or retreat was impossible. I am yours, exclaimed Cahoonshee. Do your pleasure. It is no pleasure to kill a dog—a coward! Coward! ejaculated Cahoonshee. Yes—a faint hearted woman, afraid to meet death like your fathers. You were about to meet death by throwing yourself from the rocks to save being tortured by fire. Cahoonshee keenly felt the reproach. I rely on the Great Spirit, he said. If it is His will the fire will not burn. Did the Great Spirit kindle the fire that roasted my people? Yes, through my agency he sent fire from the skies and consumed the Salamanques. Do your worst. I have had my revenge. Years ago you destroyed my tribe. Their bodies lay mouldering in yonder hill, and their scalps hang in your lodges. I alone am left. Many suns have I seen rise. You will see it rise but once more. At sun rise to-morrow, the Skull Rock will be lit up, and Cahoonshee will die a coward at the stake. Cahoonshee remained silent. Is the great warrior dumb? asked the Chief. Yes, when he talks to the Great Spirit. And stooping down, he picked up a piece of slate stone and wrote upon it: “Prisoner. To be burned at the stake at sun-rise to-morrow at Skull Rock.” Take this (addressing the dog) to your Master. The dog seized it and bounded down the rocks. See, said the Chief, the dog is ashamed of the cowardly spirit of his Master. Cahoonshee’s hands were then tied behind him, and the march to Skull Rock commenced. Their course was north-west until they reached Mongaup. Then over the ridge to Fish Cabin Brook. Then up the cliff to Skull Rock.