Such sights filled the boy with sick horror,
and with a not unnatural dread of the fate which might yet await
himself. Rather than remain to furnish in his own person the leading
feature of an Indian festival, it was surely better, he thought, to die
in attempting escape.
As it chanced later, a French trader--these tribes were the allies of
the French--arrived in camp, and remained there some time. Moved to pity
by the boy's unhappy condition, this man, with some difficulty,
persuaded Peewash to sell the lad to him for goods to the value of L40.
Great was Kerr's exultation; once more he was free, free too without
having had to face the terrible ordeal of attempting to escape from
these murderous Indian devils. All would now be well, for assuredly he,
or his friends, would repay to the Frenchman the ransom money. The boy
felt as if his troubles were already over; in a day or two at longest he
would sleep again under the flag of his own land; perhaps even, at no
distant date, he might once more gaze on scenes for which throughout his
captivity his soul had hungered, see, once more, Cheviot lying blue in
the distance, the Eildons with their triple crown, hear the ripple of
the Border streams. What tales of adventure he would have to tell.
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