"Hang the reptile!" cried one.
"Burn him!" shouted another.
"No, no," said a third; "don't imitate them villains: don't be cruel.
Let's shoot him." "Shoot 'im," cried Pierre. "Oui, dat is de ting; it
too goot pour lui, mais it shall be dooed."
"Don't ye think, lads, it would be better to let the poor wretch off?"
said Dick Varley; "he'd p'r'aps give a good account o' us to his
people."
There was a universal shout of contempt at this mild proposal.
Unfortunately, few of the men sent on this exploring expedition were
imbued with the peace-making spirit of their chief, and most of them
seemed glad to have a chance of venting their hatred of the poor
Indians on this unhappy wretch, who, although calm, looked sharply
from one speaker to another, to gather hope, if possible, from the
tones of their voices.
Dick was resolved, at the risk of a quarrel with Pierre, to save the
poor man's life, and had made up his mind to insist on having him
conducted to the camp to be tried by Cameron, when one of the men
suggested that they should take the savage to the top of a hill about
three miles farther on, and there hang him up on a tree as a warning
to all his tribe.
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