"What does it mean?" I asked.
He pushed his musket into position.
"Be patient, brother. Let us see what happens next."
Other figures broke from the wood, whooping and firing after the fleeing Dakota, who, their bows hopelessly out-ranged, made no attempt at resistance, but raced for the protection of the Missouri bank.
"Chippewa!" squeaked Corlaer.
Tawannears nodded, frowning.
"They are the war-party who crossed the Great River ahead of us," he agreed. "What shall we do, brothers? The Chippewa are allies of the French. Corlaer and Tawannears have spent many months in the teepees of the Dakotas. But the odds are heavy against our Dakota brothers. If we cast our lot with them we may lose our own scalps."
"We are in sore danger, no matter which way we turn," I retorted. "The Chippewa would show us no mercy at any time. I am for aiding the Dakota. If we can save them they will be all the more eager to help us on our venture, as you suggested before."
"Ja," assented Corlaer. "Andt we gife dose Chippewa a surprise, eh?"
"We must give them Death," answered Tawannears grimly.