“Oh, my gracious! Oh, St. Peter! Oh, Lord! Mr. Indian, I beg and pray of you not to do that any more. If you’ll only untie me, I’ll get down on my knees to you,” exclaimed poor Joe. “Poor fellow, me won’t hurt him any more—poor head!” said the Indian, tearing off another lock. “Oh! oh! goodness gracious. _Dear_ Mr. Indian, don’t do that! You can have no idea how bad it hurts—I can’t stand it. I’ll faint presently!” said Joe, trembling at every joint. “You’re a fool,” said Sneak, “to mind ’em that way. If you wasn’t to notice ’em, they wouldn’t do it. See how they’re laughing at you.” “Oh, Sneak, I can’t help it, to save my life, indeed I can’t. Oh, my good Lord, what would I give to be away from here!” said Joe, his eyes fit to burst from their sockets. “I’ve killed many a deer in a minit—it don’t hurt a man to die more than a deer. I wish the snarvilorous copper-skinned rascals would git through quick!” said Sneak. “Me try you agin,” said the savage, again going to Sneak. “Well, now, what’re you a going to do? I’m not afraid of you!” said Sneak, grinding his teeth. “Me rub your head,” said the savage, seizing a tuft of hair and tearing it out. “Take some more,” said Sneak, bowing down his head. “A little more,” iterated the savage, grasping a handful, which, with much exertion, he severed from the head, and left the white skin exposed to view. “Won’t you have some more?” continued Sneak, without evincing the least pain. “Jest take as much as you please; if you tear it off till my head’s as bald as an egg, I won’t beg you to let me alone.” “You brave fellow—won’t pull your hair any more,” said the chief. “You be dod rot!” said Sneak, contemptuously. “You mighty brave, shake hands!” continued the laughing savage, holding his hand out in mockery. “If you’ll untie my foot a minit, I’ll bet I kick some of the ribs out of your body. Why don’t you knock our brains out, and be done at once, you black wolves you!” said Sneak. “Oh, Sneak! for my sake—your poor friend’s sake, don’t put such an idea as that into their heads!” said Joe, imploringly. “You’re a purty friend, ain’t you? You’d give so _much_ to ransom me! They aint a going to quit us without killin’ us, and I want it all over jest as soon as it kin be done.” “Oh, no, Sneak! Maybe they’ll take pity on us and spare our lives,” said Joe, assuming a most entreating look as the savage once more approached him. “You make good big Osage; you come with us, if we let you live?” demanded the old Indian. “I pledge you my most sacred word and honour I will!” “You run away, you rascal,” said the savage, plucking another tuft of hair from Joe’s head. “I’ll be hanged if I stand this any longer!” said Joe, striving to break the cord that confined him. “Don’t notice the black cowards,” said Sneak. “How can I help noticing them, when they’re pulling out my hair by the roots!” said Joe.