The Indian who had spoken first now said something to his companion braves in a guttural voice, and a couple advanced and bound the arms of Dick and Ben together behind their backs. Then they were encompassed about by the redskins and conducted away through the forest. They traveled westward for a period of two or three hours, and then they reached the camp of the Indians. Dick and Tom were placed in a wigwam near the center of the village, and guards were placed about the wigwam. “Well, this isn’t very pleasant, Dick,” said Ben, when they were alone. “No, it isn’t, Ben,” was the reply. “I wonder what they’ll do with us?” “I don’t know. Hold us prisoners, I suppose.” “Do you think they are likely to burn us at the stake?” asked Ben, an anxious note in his voice. “I hardly think so,” was the reply. “I haven’t heard that the Cherokee Indians torture prisoners.” “Indians are not to be trusted,” said Ben. “Well, we’ll have to wait till morning and see what they intend doing,” said Dick. Then presently he went on: “I wonder where Tom is?” “Possibly the Indians have got him a prisoner also, Dick.” “Possibly, but I hope not. We must try to find out.” They talked a while longer, and then lay down on the skins of wild animals that constituted their beds, and presently went to sleep, and in spite of their dangerous situation, they slept soundly till morning. Food was brought them, after a while, and a couple of braves stood guard over them while they ate. Then their hands were bound again, and they were left to themselves an hour or more. Then a couple of braves entered, and the two youths were conducted to a point where a circle of Indians sat on the ground, while in the center sat a big, ugly-looking Indian at least fifty years of age. This was the chief, and the youths were taken in front of him. “Ugh,” he grunted. “Young white men cause a lot uv braves to die over in Peaceful Valley. Young white men’s lives must pay for braves. You die to-night, at the stake.” The youths glanced at each other, and then looked at the old chief searchingly. They were trying to see whether he meant what he said, or not. And from the grim look on his face, they guessed that he did mean absolutely what he said. The part the youths had played in the affairs at Peaceful Valley had angered the Indians, and they intended taking revenge, now that they had the two captives helpless and in their power. “Take um away,” said the chief, with a wave of his hand, and Dick and Ben were conducted back to the wigwam. As soon as they were alone, they looked at each other for a few moments in silence, a look of dismay on their faces. “The outlook is not very pleasing for us, Dick,” said Ben, presently. “You are right, Ben. I wonder if we could escape?” Ben shook his head. “Not much chance of that,” he said. “Our arms are bound, and the wigwam is guarded. We couldn’t get away.” “I guess you are right. But I don’t relish being burned at the stake, Ben.”