“You brave fellow—­me burn you quick,” said the savage, applying the torch, and, stooping down, placed his face within a few inches of the crackling blaze, and began to blow it gently.  Sneak twisted his head round the tree as far as possible, and the next moment the powder exploded, throwing down the pile of wood, and dashing the savage several paces distant violently on the ground, and blackening and scorching his face and hair in a terrible manner.  The other Indians instantly prostrated themselves on their faces, and uttered the most doleful lamentations.  Thus they remained a few minutes, evidently impressed with the belief that the Great Spirit had interfered to prevent the destruction of the prisoners.  Hastily gathering up their arms, they fled precipitately in the direction of their distant home, and their yells of disappointment and defeat rang in the ears of their captives until they died away in the distance.

“Sneak! make haste! they may come back again!” said Joe.

“They’ve tied my feet so tight I’m afraid I can’t undo it in a hurry,” replied Sneak, endeavouring to break the cord by thrusting a stick (that he had slipped from the pile to knock out the brains of one of the Indians should his gun-powder plot not succeed,) between it and the tree, and forcing it out until the pain produced became insufferable.  By this means the cord was loosened gradually, and moving it a little higher up where the muscles had not yet been bruised, he repeated the process.  In this manner he laboured with certain but tardy success.  But while he was thus engaged, Joe’s predicament became each moment more critical.  The wood being by this time pretty well seasoned, began to burn more freely.  The blaze was making formidable advances, and the heat was becoming intolerable.

“For heaven’s sake, Sneak!” cried Joe, “make haste and come here, or I’ll be roasted alive!”

“Wait till I get away from my own tree,” replied Sneak.

“Oh Lord!  I can’t wait a minute more!  My shins are getting blistered!” cried Joe, writhing under the heat of the blaze, which now reached within a few inches of him, and increased in magnitude with awful rapidity.

“Well, if you won’t wait till I git there, just go ahead yourself,” said Sneak, at last extricating his feet by a violent effort, and hopping to Joe’s assistance, with some difficulty, for his nether limbs were considerably bruised.

“Hang it, Sneak, pull these burning sticks away from my knees!” said Joe, his face flushed with pain.

“I’ll be bursted with powder, if you didn’t like to git into a purty tight fix,” said Sneak, dashing down the consuming billets of wood.

“Now, Sneak, cut me loose, and then let’s run home as soon as possible.”

“I hain’t got my knife with me, or I wouldn’t ’ave been so long gitting loose myself,” said Sneak, slowly untying Joe’s hands.

“My goodness, how my arms ache!” said Joe, when his hands were released.  “Now, Sneak, undo my feet, and then we’ll be off in a hurry.”