A few seconds only were necessary for Sut to free himself, but ere those seconds could be taken advantage of, he was drawn over backward.  The entire party sprang upon him and seized his gun and knife.

“Skulp me, if this don’t look as though I’d made a slip of it this time!” muttered Sut, as he bounded like lightning to his feet.  “When yer varmints undertake a job of this kind, yer show that yer ain’t no slouches, but have a good knowledge of the business.”

As if anxious to deserve the complimentary opinion of their distinguished prisoner, they coiled the lasso again and again about him, until he was fastened by a dozen rounds and was no more able to contend against his captors then if he were an infant.

As all the warriors recognized the prisoner, their delight was something extraordinary.  They danced about him in the most grotesque and frantic manner, screeching, yelling, and indulging in all sorts of tantalizing gestures and signs at Simpson, who was unable to resist them or help himself.

There was a certain dignity in the carriage of Sut under these trying circumstances.  Instead of replying by taunts to the taunts of his enemies, he maintained silence, permitting them to wag on to their heart’s content.

It was wonderful how rapidly the tidings of the capture spread.  The hootings and yellings that marked the rejoicings of the party were heard by those who were further away, and they signaled it to the warriors beyond.  The redskins came from every direction, and, within half an hour from the time Sut Simpson was lassoed, there must have been nearly a hundred Apaches gathered around him.  These all continued their frantic rejoicings, while, as before, the prisoner remained silent.

His eyes were wandering over the company in search of Lone Wolf, their great leader; but that redoubtable chieftain was nowhere to be seen.  Sut was certain that he was somewhere near at hand, and must know of all that had happened on this spot.

Did Simpson expect anything like mercy from the Apaches?  Not a whit of it.  He had fought them too long, had inflicted too much injury, and understood them too thoroughly to look for anything of the kind.  Besides, even if he was innocent of having ever harmed a redskin, he would not have received the slightest indulgence at their hands.  The Apaches are like all the rest of their species, in their inherent opposition to mercy on general principles.

The afternoon was well spent, and, as a means of occupying his mind until his case was disposed of, he set himself speculating as to what their precise intentions were.  Being quite familiar with the Apache tongue, he caught the meaning of many of their expressions; but for a considerable time these were confined to mere exultations over his capture.  The excitement was too great for anything like deliberation, or concerted council.

“It may be the skunks are waitin’ fur Lone Wolf,” he muttered, as he stood with his arms bound to his side.  “They wouldn’t dare to do much without axing him, though I ’spose they might a skulp any man wharever they got the chance, without stopping to ax questions.  Helloa! thar he comes!”