The savages turned him over and looked satisfied when they found that he was not dead.

They bound him with even greater care than they had shown in securing the others, while Long-Hair stood by stolidly looking on, meantime supporting his broken fore-arm in his hand.
"Ugh! dog!" he grunted, and gave Beverley a kick in the side.

Then turning a fiendish stare upon Oncle Jazon he proceeded to deliver against his old, dry ribs three or four like contributions with resounding effect.

"Polecat! Little old greasy woman!" he snarled, "make good fire for warrior to dance by!" Kenton also received his full share of the kicks and verbal abuse, after which Long-Hair gave orders for fires to be built.

Then he looked to his hurt arm and had the bone set and bandaged, never so much as wincing the while.
It was soon apparent that the Indians purposed to celebrate their successful enterprise with a feast.