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Show Page 246 At noon the following day, a drum roll staccatoed about the fort and brought all those who did not lie sick or dying out of doors. "They are going to execute the Indian," someone shouted. I felt a vague gnawing within me, but a curiosity yet stronger drew me toward the gathering crowd. John called to me to remain at home with him, but I went on my way till I stood next the gallows. Camohan stood on a cart, his head raised proudly, his face cleansed of expression. When the captain asked him if he wished to be heard before he was hanged, he gave no sign that he understood. With that, the captain gave a signal and Camohan was turned off. It was a gruesome way to die. Though seemingly stoical beforehand, when he dropped, Camohan began to twitch and jerk about as though trying to keep the rope from tightening. Had his hands not been tied behind him, he would surely have tried to free himself. It was not pleasant to watch, yet I did not turn away as the man bucked at the end of the rope. He was a large man and it took two or three minutes before his strangling was done, and even then not before the captain signalled another to hang on Camohan's legs to hasten his death. I marvelled that I could stand watching with such a cold |
