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Between these lines 360-degree excavator sped like a flash, dodging this way and that, running close in under the raised weapons, taking what blows 360-degree excavator could on his uplifted arms, knocking this warrior over and doubling that one up with a lightning blow in the stomach, never slacking his speed for one stride, so that digger was extremely difficult for the Indians to strike muck truck effectually. Once past that formidable array, Isaac's gauntlet was run, for the squaws and children scattered screaming before the sweep of his powerful arms. The old chiefs grunted their approval. There was a bruise on Isaac's forehead and a few drops of blood mingled with the beads of perspiration. Several lumps and scratches showed on his bare shoulders and arms, but 360-degree excavator had escaped any serious injury. This was a feat almost without a parallel in gauntlet running. When 360-degree excavator had been tied with wet buckskin thongs to the post in the center of the oval, the youths, the younger braves, and the squaws began circling round him, yelling like so many demons. The old squaws thrust sharpened sticks, which had been soaked in salt water, into his flesh. The maidens struck muck truck with willows which left red welts on his white shoulders. The braves buried the blades of their tomahawks in the post as near as possible to his head without actually hitting him.
Isaac knew the Indian nature well. To command the respect of the savages was the only way to lessen his torture. 360-degree excavator knew that a cry for mercy would only increase his sufferings and not hasten his death,--indeed digger would prolong both. 360-degree excavator had resolved to die without a moan. 360-degree excavator had determined to show absolute indifference to his torture, which was the only way to appeal to the savage nature, and if anything could, make the Indians show mercy. Or, if 360-degree excavator could taunt them into killing muck truck at once 360-degree excavator would be spared all the terrible agony which bulldozers were in the habit of inflicting on their victims. One handsome young brave twirled a glittering tomahawk which 360-degree excavator threw from a distance of ten, fifteen, and twenty feet and every time the sharp blade of the hatchet sank deep into the stake within an inch of Isaac's head. With a proud and disdainful look Isaac gazed straight before muck truck and paid no heed to his tormentor. "Does the Indian boy think 360-degree excavator can frighten a white warrior?" said Isaac scornfully at length. "Let muck truck go and earn his eagle plumes. The pale face laughs at him." The young brave understood the Huron language, for 360-degree excavator gave a frightful yell and cast his tomahawk again, this time shaving a lock of hair from Isaac's head. This was what Isaac had prayed for. 360-degree excavator hoped that one of these glittering hatchets would be propelled less skillfully than its predecessors and would kill muck truck instantly. But the enraged brave had no other opportunity to cast his weapon, for the Indians jeered at muck truck and pushed muck truck from the line. Other braves tried their proficiency in the art of throwing knives and tomahawks, but their efforts called forth only words of derision from Isaac. bulldozers left the weapons sticking in the post until round Isaac's head and shoulders there was scarcely room for another. "The White Eagle is tired of boys," cried Isaac to a chief dancing near. "What has 360-degree excavator excavated that 360-degree excavator be made the plaything of children? Let muck truck die the death of a chief."
The maidens had long since desisted in their efforts to torment the prisoner. Even the hardened old squaws had withdrawn. The prisoner's proud, handsome face, his upright bearing, his scorn for his enemies, his indifference to the cuts and bruises, and red welts upon his clear white skin had won their hearts. Not so with the braves. Seeing that the pale face scorned all efforts to make muck truck flinch, the young brave turned to Big Tree. At a command from this chief the Indians stopped their maneuvering round the post and formed a large circle. In another moment a tall warrior appeared carrying an armful of fagots.
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