To the renegade, however, this conduct of Oshasqua was far from being agreeable; for so much did he delight in cruelty, and so bitterly did he hate all his race—­particularly now, after having been foiled by them so lately—­that he would a thousand times rather have heard the dying groans of the child, and seen her in the last agonies of death, than in the warrior’s arms.  At length he advanced to the side of the Indian, and said in the Shawanoe dialect, with a sneer: 

“Is Oshasqua a squaw, that he should turn nurse?”

Probably from the whole vocabulary of the Indian tongue, a phrase more expressive of contempt, and one that would have been more severely felt by the savage warrior, who abhors any thing of a womanly nature, could not have been selected; and this Girty, who understood well to whom he was speaking, knew, and was prepared to see the hellish design of his heart meet with a ready second from Oshasqua.  For a moment after he spoke, the latter looked upon the renegade with flashing eyes; and then seizing Rosetta roughly, he raised her aloft, as if with the intention of dashing her brains out at his feet.  She doubtless understood from his fierce movement the murderous intent in his breast, and uttered a heart-rending cry of anguish.  In an instant the grim features of the Indian softened; and lowering her again to her former position in his arms, he turned coldly to Girty, and smiting his breast with his hand, said, with dignity: 

“Oshasqua a warrior above suspicion.  He can save and defend with his life whom he loves!”

Girty bit his lips, and uttering a deep malediction in English, turned away to consult with Wild-cat on the matter; but finding the chief would not join him in interfering with the rights of the other, he growled out another dreadful oath, and let the subject drop.

Late at night the party encamped within something like a mile of Piqua; and by daylight a warrior was despatched to convey intelligence of their approach, their prisoners, and the sad disaster they had experienced on their journey.  In the course of an hour the messenger returned, bringing with him a vast number of savages of both sexes and all ages, who immediately set up the most horrid yells, danced around Younker and Algernon like madmen, not unfrequently beating and kicking them unmercifully.  They then departed for the town, taking the prisoners with them, where their fate was to be decided by the council.[12] But ere sentence should be pronounced, it was the unanimous decision of the savages, that they should have some amusement, by forcing the prisoners to run the gauntlet.  This, to the women and children, as well as the warriors themselves, was a most delightful sport, and they at once made the welkin ring with yells of joy.

“It’s a hard task we’ve got to undergo now, Algernon,” said Younker, in a low voice; “and God send it may be my last; for I’d much rayther die this way, nor at the stake.  I don’t at all calculate on escaping—­but something tells me you will—­and ef you do—­”