To punish him for his presumption, the enemy resolved to put him to death in such a manner as would be most painful to him. They accordingly threatened him successively with a number of different forms of torture, such as baking in hot embers, boiling, &c., with each of which the captive artfully expressed his entire satisfaction. They finally proposed to drown him; and this mode of punishment being so earnestly protested against by the tortoise, they determined to carry it into immediate execution. With this view, several of the enemy carried him out into a deep part of the river, and threw him in. The tortoise, thus released, and, through the ignorance of the captors in the art of torturing, abandoned to an element in which he could act freely and with much power, dived down from their view, and rising again, dragged two or three of them under water successively, and scalped them. Then rising above the surface of the water, he exhibited the scalps triumphantly to the enemy, who stood in {52} crowds upon the bank of the river, unable to injure him. Content with his fortunate achievement, the tortoise now journeyed homeward; and on arriving at his lodge, he found there the bull and ant, both in bed, groaning piteously with their wounds. Upon the reality of such stories, many of the auditors seem to rely with implicit faith, particularly as their occurrence is referred to the chronology of former times, by such a prefatory notice as "once upon a time." The narrator proceeds with a degree of gravity of feature suitable to the nature of the events of his story; and notes a variety of little circumstances in detail, which contribute much to give the whole an air of truth to his auditors, who listen with an undivided attention, uttering occasionally an interjection, as their feelings are excited. That the inferior animals did, in ancient times, march to battle with simultaneous regularity, that they conversed intelligibly, and performed all the different actions of men, many of them appear to admit, with as much faith as many equally absurd doctrines are believed in Christendom. But these qualities are supposed to be no longer inherent; and if an animal should now speak with the voice of man, it is either the effect of the immediate inspiration of the Wahconda, or the apparent animal is no other than the Wahconda himself incarnate. The Indians sometimes indulge in pleasantry in their conversation; and Shaumonekusse seemed to be eminently witty—a quality strongly indicated by his well-marked features of countenance. Their wit, however, is generally obscene, particularly when in conversation with the squaws.