his sides, was led out to witness the fearful scene. Rudolph and Kitty
were seized, and, in spite of their struggles, bound side by side to the
tree.

Already the wild dance of the Indians had begun. Frightful yells and
whoops filled the air, and even women and little dusky children clapped
their hands and shouted with excitement and delight. They brought
armfuls of brush and laid it close to the pile. Nothing was needed to
complete the deed but to apply the fatal torches, now sending forth hot,
fierce gleams into the pale air, and brandished by a dozen yelling
savages.

At a signal from an aged chief, the brush was lighted. The fire cracked
and snapped; soon its snake-like wreaths curled about the pile, sending
thick smoke around the screaming victims, when, suddenly, old
Ka-te-qua--she who had taken charge of the children--rushed from the
neighboring forest. Tearing through the crowd, she flew to the pile of
fagots, and with vigorous strokes scattered the blazing wood in every
direction.

Then, turning toward the astonished savages, who had retreated a few
paces to escape the burning brands, she addressed them passionately in
the Indian tongue:

"The Great Spirit," she cried, "scowls upon you--the very flames hiss in
the wet grass. The sons of Ka-te-qua are gone to the happy hunting
grounds of the dead. Her wigwam is dark. The young pale-faces are to her
like the water-lilies of the stream. Why, when she was in the forest
gathering herbs for the sick of her tribe, did ye steal them from her
lodge like dogs?