execution; whether he was to be tomahawked or burned, at all events he
was to meet his fate in the morning. Late in the night, after the
warriors were fast asleep and, perhaps, dreaming of their spoils, when
everything was still in the camp, the Indian untied and loosed the
captive, told him to be careful, still, and follow him. After they were
outside the camp, out of hearing, the Indian told the white man that he
was going to save his life and show him the way home. They traveled until
morning and all that day, and the night following, the next morning they
came out in sight of a clearing and the Indian showed him a house and
asked him if he knew the place; he said he did. Then the Indian asked him
if he knew him; he told him that he did not. Then he referred him to the
tavern and asked if he remembered giving an Indian something to eat. He
said he did. "I am the one," said the Indian, "and I dare not go back to
my own tribe, they would kill me." Here the friends par Led to meet no
more. One went home to friends and civilization; the other went an exile
without friends to whom he dared go, with no home, a fugitive in the
wilderness.

There was a man by the name of H. Moody who often visited at father's
house he told me that when he was young he was among the Mohawk Indians
in Canada. This tribe formerly lived in what is now the State of New
York. They took up on the side of the English, were driven away to Canada
and there settled on the Grand River. Mr. Moody was well acquainted with
the sons of the great chief, Brant, and knew the laws and customs of the
tribe. He said when they considered one of their tribe very bad they set
him aside and would have nothing to do with him.

If one murdered another of the same tribe he was taken up and tried by a
council, and if it was found to be wilful murder, without any cause, he
was condemned and put to death; but if there were any extenuating