He took the club and pounded with it on the ground.
Pipe repeated his former performance, as also did Half King, after which he handed the black, knotted symbol of death to Jim Girty.
Three had declared for saving the Christians, and three for the death penalty.
Six pairs of burning eyes were fastened on the Deaths-head.
Pipe and Half King were coldly relentless; Deering awoke to a brutal earnestness; McKee and Elliott watched with bated breath.

These men had formed themselves into a tribunal to decide on the life or death of many, and the situation, if not the greatest in their lives, certainly was one of vital importance.
Simon Girty cursed all the fates.

He dared not openly oppose the voting, and he could not, before those cruel but just chiefs, try to influence his brother's vote.
As Jim Girty took the war-club, Simon read in his brother's face the doom of the converted Indians and he muttered to himself: "Now tremble an' shrink, all you Christians!" Jim was not in a hurry.

Slowly he poised the war-club.

He was playing as a cat plays with a mouse; he was glorying in his power.
The silence was that of death.