In a few minutes he had reached the water and after picketing his horse some little distance down the stream and away from the trail, he rolled himself in his blanket to sleep.The moon rising above the high tree-tops filled the forest aisles with a soft unearthly light.As his eye followed down the long dim aisles there grew once more upon him the feeling that he was being watched by unseen eyes.Vainly he cursed himself for his folly.He could not sleep.
A twig broke near him.He lay still listening with every nerve taut.He fancied he could hear soft feet about him and stealing near.With his two guns in hand he sat bolt upright.Straight before him and not more than ten feet away the form of an Indian was plainly to be seen.A slight sound to his right drew his eyes in that direction.There, too, stood the silent form of an Indian, on his left also an Indian.Suddenly from behind him a deep, guttural voice spoke, "Look this way!" He turned sharply and found himself gazing into a rifle-barrel a few feet from his face."Now look back!" said the voice.He glanced to right and left, only to find rifles leveled at him from every side.
"White man put down his guns on ground!" said the same guttural voice.
Cameron hesitated.
"Indian speak no more," said the voice in a deep growl.
Cameron put his guns down.
"Stand up!" said the voice.
Cameron obeyed.Out from behind the Indian with the leveled rifle glided another Indian form.It was Copperhead.Two more Indians appeared with him.All thought of resistance passed from Cameron's mind.It would mean instant death, and, what to Cameron was worse than death, the certain failure of his plans.While he lived he still had hope.Besides, there would be the Police next day.
With savage, cruel haste Copperhead bound his hands behind his back and as a further precaution threw a cord about his neck.
"Come!" he said, giving the cord a quick jerk.
"Copperhead," said Cameron through his clenched teeth, "you will one day wish you had never done this thing.""No speak!" said Copperhead gruffly, jerking the cord so heavily as almost to throw Cameron off his feet.
Through the night Cameron stumbled on with his captors, Copperhead in front and the others following.Half dead with sleeplessness and blind with rage he walked on as if in a hideous nightmare, mechanically watching the feet of the Indian immediately in front of him and thus saving himself many a cruel fall and a more cruel jerking of the cord about his neck, for such was Copperhead's method of lifting him to his feet when he fell.It seemed to him as if the night would never pass or the journey end.
At length the throbbing of the Indian drum fell upon his ears.It was to him a welcome sound.Nothing could be much more agonizing than what he was at present enduring.As they approached the Indian camp one of his captors raised a wild, wailing cry which resounded through the forest with an unearthly sound.Never had such a cry fallen upon Cameron's ears.It was the old-time cry of the Indian warriors announcing that they were returning in triumph bringing their captives with them.The drum-beat ceased.Again the cry was raised, when from the Indian encampment came in reply a chorus of similar cries followed by a rush of braves to meet the approaching warriors and to welcome them and their captives.
With loud and discordant exultation straight into the circle of the firelight cast from many fires Copperhead and his companions marched their captive.On every side naked painted Indians to the number of several score crowded in tumultuous uproar.Not for many years had these Indians witnessed their ancient and joyous sport of baiting a prisoner.
As Cameron came into the clear light of the fire instantly low murmurs ran round the crowd, for to many of them he was well known.
Then silence fell upon them.His presence there was clearly a shock to many of them.To take prisoner one of the Mounted Police and to submit him to indignity stirred strange emotions in their hearts.The keen eye of Copperhead noted the sudden change of the mood of the Indians and immediately he gave orders to those who held Cameron in charge, with the result that they hurried him off and thrust him into a little low hut constructed of brush and open in front where, after tying his feet securely, they left him with an Indian on guard in front.
For some moments Cameron lay stupid with weariness and pain till his weariness overpowered his pain and he sank into sleep.He was recalled to consciousness by the sensation of something digging into his ribs.As he sat up half asleep a low "hist!" startled him wide awake.His heart leaped as he heard out of the darkness a whispered word, "Jerry here." Cameron rolled over and came close against the little half-breed, bound as he was himself.Again came the "hist!""Me all lak' youse'f," said Jerry."No spik any.Look out front."The Indian on guard was eagerly looking and listening to what was going on before him beside the fire.At one side of the circle sat the Indians in council.Copperhead was standing and speaking to them.
"What is he saying?" said Cameron, his mouth close to Jerry's ear.
"He say dey keel us queeck.Indian no lak' keel.Dey scare Police get 'em.Copperhead he ver' mad.Say he keel us heemse'f--queeck."Again and again and with ever increasing vehemence Copperhead urged his views upon the hesitating Indians, well aware that by involving them in such a deed of blood he would irrevocably commit them to rebellion.But he was dealing with men well-nigh as subtle as himself, and for the very same reason as he pressed them to the deed they shrank back from it.They were not yet quite prepared to burn their bridges behind them.Indeed some of them suggested the wisdom of holding the prisoners as hostages in case of necessity arising in the future.
"What Indians are here?" whispered Cameron.
