weapons, blankets and everything of value.  The Wyandots took a northwest trail and the Delawares and the Shawnees traveled east.  I followed the latter because their trail led toward home.  Three days later I stood on the high bluff above Wingenund’s camp.  From there I saw Col.  Crawford tied to a stake and a fire started at his feet.  I was not five hundred yards from the camp.  I saw the war chiefs, Pipe and Wingenund; I saw Simon Girty and a British officer in uniform.  The chiefs and Girty were once Crawford’s friends.  They stood calmly by and watched the poor victim slowly burn to death.  The Indians yelled and danced round the stake; they devised every kind of hellish torture.  When at last an Indian ran in and tore off the scalp of the still living man I could bear to see no more, and I turned and ran.  I have been in some tough places, but this last was the worst.”

“My God! it is awful—­and to think that man Girty was once a white man,” cried Col.  Zane.

“He came very near being a dead man,” said Jonathan, with grim humor.  “I got a long shot at him and killed his big white horse.”

“It’s a pity you missed him,” said Silas Zane.

“Here comes Wetzel.  What will he say about the massacre?” remarked Major McColloch.

Wetzel joined the group at that moment and shook hands with Jonathan.  When interrogated about the failure of Col.  Crawford’s expedition Wetzel said that Slover had just made his appearance at the cabin of Hugh Bennet, and that he was without clothing and almost dead from exposure.

“I’m glad Slover got out alive.  He was against the march all along.  If Crawford had listened to us he would have averted this terrible affair and saved his own life.  Lew, did Slover know how many men got out?” asked Jonathan.

“He said not many.  The redskins killed all the prisoners exceptin’ Crawford and Knight.”

“I saw Col.  Crawford burned at the stake.  I did not see Dr. Knight.  Maybe they murdered him before I reached the camp of the Delawares,” said Jonathan.

“Wetzel, in your judgment, what effect will this massacre and Crawford’s death have on the border?” inquired Col.  Zane.

“It means another bloody year like 1777,” answered Wetzel.

“We are liable to have trouble with the Indians any day.  You mean that.”

“There’ll be war all along the river.  Hamilton is hatchin’ some new devil’s trick with Girty.  Col.  Zane, I calkilate that Girty has a spy in the river settlements and knows as much about the forts and defense as you do.”

“You can’t mean a white spy.”

“Yes, just that.”

“That is a strong assertion, Lewis, but coming from you it means something.  Step aside here and explain yourself,” said Col.  Zane, getting up and walking out to the fence.

“I don’t like the looks of things,” said the hunter.  “A month ago I ketched this man Miller pokin’ his nose round the block-house where he hadn’t ought to be.  And I kep’ watchin’ him.  If my suspicions is correct he’s playin’ some deep game.  I ain’t got any proof, but things looks bad.”