Dick and Ben were horrified, as well as amazed when they were confronted by the encircling gang of Indians.

That they could not escape was evident, for the redskins had them at such a disadvantage it would be folly to try to do so. They would be either cut down by tomahawks or pierced by arrows before they could draw their pistols.

The Indian who had spoken first now said something to his companion braves in a guttural voice, and a couple advanced and bound the arms of Dick and Ben together behind their backs.

Then they were encompassed about by the redskins and conducted away through the forest. They traveled westward for a period of two or three hours, and then they reached the camp of the Indians.

Dick and Tom were placed in a wigwam near the center of the village, and guards were placed about the wigwam.

“Well, this isn’t very pleasant, Dick,” said Ben, when they were alone.

“No, it isn’t, Ben,” was the reply.

“I wonder what they’ll do with us?”

“I don’t know. Hold us prisoners, I suppose.”

“Do you think they are likely to burn us at the stake?” asked Ben, an anxious note in his voice.

“I hardly think so,” was the reply. “I haven’t heard that the Cherokee Indians torture prisoners.”

“Indians are not to be trusted,” said Ben.

“Well, we’ll have to wait till morning and see what they intend doing,” said Dick. Then presently he went on: “I wonder where Tom is?”

“Possibly the Indians have got him a prisoner also, Dick.”

“Possibly, but I hope not. We must try to find out.”

They talked a while longer, and then lay down on the skins of wild animals that constituted their beds, and presently went to sleep, and in spite of their dangerous situation, they slept soundly till morning.

Food was brought them, after a while, and a couple of braves stood guard over them while they ate. Then their hands were bound again, and they were left to themselves an hour or more.

Then a couple of braves entered, and the two youths were conducted to a point where a circle of Indians sat on the ground, while in the center sat a big, ugly-looking Indian at least fifty years of age. This was the chief, and the youths were taken in front of him.

“Ugh,” he grunted. “Young white men cause a lot uv braves to die over in Peaceful Valley. Young white men’s lives must pay for braves. You die to-night, at the stake.”

The youths glanced at each other, and then looked at the old chief searchingly. They were trying to see whether he meant what he said, or not. And from the grim look on his face, they guessed that he did mean absolutely what he said. The part the youths had played in the affairs at Peaceful Valley had angered the Indians, and they intended taking revenge, now that they had the two captives helpless and in their power.

“Take um away,” said the chief, with a wave of his hand, and Dick and Ben were conducted back to the wigwam. As soon as they were alone, they looked at each other for a few moments in silence, a look of dismay on their faces.

“The outlook is not very pleasing for us, Dick,” said Ben, presently.

“You are right, Ben. I wonder if we could escape?”

Ben shook his head. “Not much chance of that,” he said. “Our arms are bound, and the wigwam is guarded. We couldn’t get away.”

“I guess you are right. But I don’t relish being burned at the stake, Ben.”

“Neither do I.”

“Perhaps we can make a break and escape as we are being taken to the place where they intend to conduct the ceremonies,” said Dick, thoughtfully.

“I am for making the attempt, Dick.”

“Well, we will do our best.”

The time passed slowly, that day, but also it passed faster than the two youths liked, for every hour that rolled away brought them nearer to the torture-stake.

After supper, that evening, they sat and waited in almost complete silence. They did not exchange many words, for they did not feel like talking. They reiterated their determination to try to make their escape, however, if any opportunity presented itself.

Presently it grew dark, and the youths heard considerable stirring about. They judged that the Indians were getting ready for the ceremony of burning them at the stake.

Slowly the time passed, and then presently into the wigwam came four Indian braves. They seized hold of the arms of Dick and Ben, and hustled them out of the wigwam, and conducted them toward a point just outside the edge of the village, where a fire was burning. As they drew nearer, the youths saw that several piles of wood had been gathered, and they knew that this was to be piled about them, and set fire to. In spite of the fact that they were brave youths, they shuddered.

They were led to a couple of tall, slender trees, about a foot in diameter, and their backs were placed against the trees. The moment had come when if at all the youths must make an attempt to get away, and suddenly they gave a strong wrench and attempted to jerk away from their captors’ grasp and make their escape, but they were quickly seized by a number of strong hands and held against the trees, while they were securely bound there with thongs.

Then the Indians began piling the wood around them, against their legs, while all the members of the band gathered around, to watch the proceedings.

Then brands from the fire were brought and stuck in among the dry wood that had been piled around them, and soon the wood was on fire and burning at a brisk rate.

Dick and Ben looked at each other, with despair in their eyes. They could see no possible chance of escape.

Louder crackled the burning wood, and as the flames neared the limbs of the prisoners, the redskins began chanting a guttural song of triumph.