Here they halted for a moment--until each had got into his saddle--and then the whole party, prisoners and all, set off at a brisk trot over the prairie.
In about an hour they arrived at a large encampment upon the bank of a broad shallow river.

There were nearly an hundred lodges standing upon the plain; and the ground was littered with buffalo-horns and hides, while vast quantities of the flesh of these animals were hanging from poles in front of every lodge.

There were fires, and camp-kettles, and dogs, and Indian ponies, and women, and children--all mixed up together, or moving to and fro among the tents.
In front of the encampment, and near the bank of the stream, the prisoners were thrown upon the ground.

Their captors left them; but they were at once surrounded by a crowd of yelling squaws and children.
These at first regarded them only with curiosity; but as soon as they heard that one of the Indians had been wounded, they uttered the most hideous and piercing cries, and approached their captives with threatening looks and gestures.

They commenced their cowardly torture by pulling the ears and hair of the boys, and sticking arrow-points into their arms and shoulders; and then, by way of having a little fun, several of the squaws seized hold of, and dragged the three prisoners out into the middle of the stream.