At last the whip came, and, disregarding
alike the presence of a stranger, and the entreaties of a woman, he
began the flagellation with murderous earnest. My interference only
added to his ungovernable rage. The raw-hide was new, and the major
being a strong, muscular man, every stroke told. The blood soon flowed
from the back, neck, and breasts, of the poor victim, whose cries, as
she writhed under the savage infliction, entered my soul. They, however,
made no impression on her brutal tormentor, who kept vociferating with
all his energy to keep her quiet. It was with some difficulty I stood by
and witnessed the assault, but I well know my life would be in jeopardy
if I attempted to interfere. I, however, screwed up my courage to stay,
in the hope that some sense of shame might induce the fellow to hold his
hand. This was, however, a delusive hope, for he continued to lay on
the whip until he was exhausted.
The girl was now on the floor of the room, moaning piteously, and a
stream of blood was flowing from her lacerated person, which soaked the
matting that covered the floor.
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