"Wagh!" exclaimed the savage, with another impatient gesticulation. "The Red-Hand is tired talking. One word more. Listen to it, chief of the pale-faces! Come down, and deliver up your fire-weapons! The Red-Hand will be merciful: he will spare your lives. If you resist, he will torture you with fire. The knives of his warriors will hew the living flesh from your bones. You shall die a hundred deaths; and the Great Spirit of the Arapahoes will smile at the sacrifice!" "And what if we do not resist?" "Your lives shall be spared. The Red-Hand declares it on the faith of a warrior." "Faith o' a warrior!--faith o' a cut-throat! He only wants to come round us, capting, an' git our scalps 'ithout fightin' for 'em--thet's what the red verming wants to be at--sure as shootin'." "Why should the Red-Hand spare our lives?" I enquired, taken by surprise at any offer of life coming from such a quarter. "Has he not just said, that all white men are his enemies?" "True. But white men may become his friends. He wants white men for his allies. He has a purpose." "Will the Red-Hand declare his purpose?" "Freely. His people have taken, many fire-weapons. See! they are yonder in the hands of his braves, who know not how to use them. Our enemies--the Utahs--have been taught by the white hunters; and the ranks of the Arapaho warriors are thinned by their deadly bullets. If the pale-faced chief and his three followers will consent to dwell with the band of Red-Hand, and teach his warriors the great medicine of the fire-weapon, their lives shall be spared. The Red-Hand will honour the young soldier-chief, and the White Eagle of the forest." "Soldier-chief. White Eagle of the forest! How can he have known--" "If you resist," continued he, interrupting my reflections, "the Red-Hand will keep his word. You have no chance of escape. You are but four, and the Arapaho warriors are numerous as the trees of the Big Timber. If one of them fall by your fire-weapons, he shall be revenged. The Red-Hand repeats what he has said: the knives of his braves will hew the living flesh from your bones. You shall die a hundred deaths, and the Great Spirit of the Arapahoes will smile at the sacrifice!" "Be Jaysis, cyaptin!" cried O'Tigg, who, not understanding Spanish, was ignorant of what had been said, "that ugly owld Indyan wants a bit ov cowld lid through him. In troth, I b'lave the musket moight raich him. She belonged to Sargent Johnson, an' was considhered the longest raich gun about the Fort. What iv I throy her carry on the ridskin? Say the word, yer honour, an' here goes!"