“Mr. Indian, if you’ll let me go, I’ll give you my gun and twenty dollars,” said Joe, appealing most piteously to the one that placed his hand on his head. The Indian seemed to understand him, and held his hand out for the money, while a demoniac smile played on his dark lips. “Just untie my hands,” said Joe, endeavouring to look behind, “and I’ll go right straight home and get them.” “You rascal—you want to run away,” replied the old Indian, who not only understood Joe’s language, but could himself speak English imperfectly. “Upon my sacred word and honour, I won’t!” replied Joe. “You lie!” said the savage, bestowing a severe smack on Joe’s face. “Oh, Lord! Come now, Mr. Indian, that hurts!” “No—don’t hurt—only kill musketer,” replied the savage, laughing heartily, and striking his prisoner on the other side of the face. “Oh! hang your skin!” cried Joe, endeavouring to break away, “if ever I get you in my power, I’ll smash—” Here his sudden courage evaporated, and again the tears filled his eyes. “Poor fellow!” said the savage, patting his victim on the head. “How much you give for him?” he continued, pointing to Sneak. “If you’ll only let _me_ go, I’ll give you every thing I’ve got in the world. He don’t want to live as bad as I do, and I’ll give you as much for me alone as I will for both.” “You’re a purty white man, now, ain’t you?” said Sneak. “But its all the same. My chance is jest as good as your’n. They’re only fooling you, jest to laugh. I’ve made up my mind to die, and I ain’t a going to make any fun for ’em. And you might as well say your prayers fust as last; they’re only playing with you now like a cat with a mice.” The old Indian moved towards Sneak, followed by the others. “How much you give?” asked the savage. “Not a coon’s tail,” replied Sneak, with firmness. “Now how much?” continued the Indian, slapping the thin lank cheek of his prisoner. “Not a dod-rotted cent! Now jest take your tomahawk and split my skull open as quick as you kin!” said Sneak; and he bowed down his head to receive the fatal blow. “You brave rascal,” said the Indian, looking his captive in the eye, and hesitating whether to practice his petty annoyances any further. At length they turned again to Joe. “That wasn’t fair, Sneak,” cried Joe, when the savages abandoned his fellow-prisoner; “you ought to have kept them away from me as long as I did from you.” “I’m gitting sick of this tanterlizing business,” said Sneak. “I want ’em to git through the job, without any more fooling about it. If you wasn’t sich a coward, they’d let you alone, and kill us at once.” “I don’t want them to kill us—I’d rather they’d do any thing in the world than to kill us,” replied Joe. “Me won’t hurt you,” said the old savage, again placing his hand on Joe’s head; but instead of gently patting it, he wound a lock of hair round one of his fingers, and with a sudden jerk tore it out by the roots.