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Show Page 194 I groaned, picturing them-Jane, Walter, Margaret, TWIG!-lying dead inside the burning walls. But at that moment Margaret stumbled through the palisade gate and ran toward the gully. The bodice of her gown was ripped and hanging about her waist. Her bosom was bare. She did not get very far, for Rawhunt and Camohan were soon upon her. Rawhunt thrust his hand about her throat, forcing her head back. With his other hand, he grasped her wrists and bent Margaret's arms behind her back. Margaret's knees buckled and her back bowed. Camohan, standing behind her with a long, yellow scalp at his waist-Jane's! --grasped his knife and slowly began slicing away Margaret's hair. 'Twas then I screamed. So sickened was I by the sight of a living person being scalped-and a person dear to me besides-so sickened, I no longer cared for my own safety. I, too, longed for death, for I doubted I could live at peace with my memory. For a brief moment I thought my screamhad gone unnoticed amongst all the others. Then Rawhunt lifted his head and looked up to where I sat in the top of the tree, my tears runneling down my face, my body numb and shaking with terror. The edges of my world went dark. Rawhunt stood in a circle surrounded by shadow. The shadow widened; the circle grew smaller until the Indian was a tiny pinprick in the gloom. |
