We knew beyond a peradventure that the Indians secreted in the thicket round about us were keeping sharp watch over the cabin, on the alert for a movement of such a kind, and there was not a single chance in a hundred that one of us could even show his head out of either window or door without being shot down. That being the case, and there seemed no doubt about it, how might one venture forth so far as where the poor captives were lashed to the trees looking forward with almost certainty to all the terrible tortures which these brutes could devise? Thinking over the matter after Simon Kenton had declared his purpose, I said to myself that he had spoken out of the fulness of his heart, and not with a belief that he might carry his proposition into execution. I argued, mentally, that his desire to aid the unfortunate creatures had caused him to believe the impossible might be accomplished; but after he should have time to consider the matter thoroughly, he would realize that he could effect nothing more than his own death. After having said what he would do, Kenton paced to and fro, keeping sharp watch upon the thicket, and saying nothing. Once I would have spoken concerning the time when Major Clarke's party might be expected at Corn Island; but he motioned me away as if he had no inclination for conversation. I had promised myself not to look out in the direction where the unhappy captives were to be seen; but it was as if their helplessness fascinated me to such a degree that I could not keep my eyes from them. I gazed at short intervals, but for no more than a few seconds at a time, and saw no change, save once when it appeared to me as if the man was speaking earnestly to the boy. I could readily fancy that the elder was trying to encourage the lad for that terrible time of trial, and the tears overflowed my eyes as I grew faint with horror while thinking of what the evening would bring forth. There is no good reason why I should try to give the details of our movements or conversation during this wofully long day. We spoke together but little, first because Simon Kenton was buried in his own thoughts or plans, and secondly because my mother's grief had been aroused by sight of the captives to such an extent that her sobs put an end to speech. Twice did Kenton get a glimpse of a tuft of feathers in the underbrush, and both times he discharged his rifle; once bringing forth a shrill cry of pain, and again evidently missing his aim, which was by no means surprising under the circumstances. Late in the afternoon mother cooked another meal, and we went through the form of eating as if from a sense of duty. It was but justice to our bodies for us to do so, since no one could say when we might have another opportunity.