savages. But when Rudolph showed evident signs of exhaustion, the
Indians paused, evidently consulting together whether they should not
tomahawk the children at once. Tom could stand it no longer. He declared
that he would not go another step if the children were injured a hair.

"Let me carry them," he cried. "I am strong enough to bear a dozen
youngsters--unbind me, I say, and hand 'em over."

Some of the red men knew enough of English to understand his meaning.
With a contemptuous sneer one of them tossed Rudolph on Tom's back; then
set one of his arms free, and drove him onward with many a brutal
stroke. It was hard work for Tom, shackled as he was, to bear the
frightened boy, who at times clung to his throat so tightly as to almost
strangle him.

"Hold on, Rudolph, boy," he whispered; "lower down--there, that way. Now
don't cry; you're father's little man, you know."

"Oh, Tom," sobbed the poor boy, "they'll kill us, I'm sure, as they
killed little Annie Green. See, now, how they carry Kitty--how they
scrape her face against the bushes; oh! oh!" and Rudolph hid his eyes in
Tom's hair, crying as if his little heart would break.

"Hush!" muttered Tom, sternly, "or I'll put you down."

In an instant one of the red men whose look, though grim and fearful
enough, showed less savageness than his companions, gruffly took Kitty
from the Indian who was carrying her with such cruel carelessness. The
change comforted the child, and in a few moments the exhausted little
creature was sleeping soundly upon his shoulder, never waking even