[FN] At or near a place now called Henderon's Flatta, Vide Life of Mary Jemison and letter of John Salmon.
"Brother! You have merited death! The hatchet or the war-club shall finish your career! When I begged of you to follow me in the fortunes of war, you were deaf to my cries: you spurned my entreaties!
"Brother! You have merited death, and shall have your deserts! When the rebels raised their hatchets to fight their good master, you sharpened your knife, you brightened your rifle, and led on our foes to the fields of our fathers!
"Brother! You have merited death, and shall die by our hands! When those rebels had driven us from the fields of our fathers to seek out new houses, it was you who could dare to step forth as their pilot, and conduct them even to the doors of our wigwams, to butcher our children and put us to death! No crime can be greater! But though you have merited death, and shall die on this spot, my hands shall not be stained with the blood of a brother!--_Who will strike?_"
A pause of but a moment ensued. The bright hatchet of Little Beard, the sachem of the village, flashed in the air like the lightning, and the young Oneida chief was dead at his feet. [FN] The other captive, who was also an Oneida sachem, was then informed by Little Beard that he was warring only against the whites, and that his life should be spared; adding, farther, that at a suitable time he should be restored to liberty. Distrusting the good faith of the chief, however, the captive watched an opportunity for escape, and very shortly afterward accomplished his purpose--but in a manner which produced another tragic catastrophe, as will presently appear.
[FN] This was truly a shocking transaction, but not _so_ shocking as that of the horrible fratricide before recorded at Wyoming, nor so shocking as the attempt of the brother of Colonel Frey at Oriskany. The Indian had far the most humanity, and far the highest sense of honor and duty.