"I understand what you mean," she continued, hurriedly, "and what
you would say, but for the fear of hurting me - us, I mean; for
Hetty loves her father quite as well as I do. But this is not
as we think of Indians. They never scalp an unhurt prisoner, but
would rather take him away alive, unless, indeed, the fierce wish
for torturing should get the mastery of them. I fear nothing for
my father's scalp, and little for his life. Could they steal on
us in the night, we should all probably suffer in this way; but
men taken in open strife are seldom injured; not, at least, until
the time of torture comes."
"That's tradition, I'll allow, and it's accordin' to practice -but,
Judith, do you know the arr'nd on which your father and Hurry went
ag'in the savages?"
"I do; and a cruel errand it was! But what will you have? Men
will be men, and some even that flaunt in their gold and silver,
and carry the King's commission in their pockets, are not guiltless
of equal cruelty." Judith's eye again flashed, but by a desperate
struggle she resumed her composure. "I get warm when I think of
all the wrong that men do," she added, affecting to smile, an effort
in which she only succeeded indifferently well.
Pages:
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226