Page:Barbour--Metipoms Hostage.djvu/247

Rh of the English were in that vicinity, and likewise the identity of certain Indians who,  it seemed, were serving with the English as  guides. But to not one question could David make intelligent answer, and the sachem  grew each moment more incensed, until, in  the end, he tossed his pipe on the ground  and sprang to his feet.

“You not talk now, you English dog, but soon you talk grand! Much heat make tongue wag! Plenty fire you get, plenty talk you make! You see!”

The younger Indian pulled David to his feet and thrust him before him through the  doorway. Outside he called others and they came gathering about with cruel, snarling  grins. He who had haled him forth spoke for a minute, evidently directing, and then  hands were again laid on the boy and he was  pushed and dragged over the ground toward  where, at an edge of the swamp island, a lone  cedar tree stood. Until they approached it, David believed the sachem’s threat to be but  idle, born of exasperation and anger, but now  he knew that it was to be carried out. Fear and desperation lent him strength. Wrenching himself free from the grasps of those who held him, he shot a clenched fist into the face