“There they are!” cried Eddie, who was in the bow of one of the boats. “We will have good trade, for I know that they are greatly in need of arms and of ammunition.”
“Look out for them!” spoke a fellow named Rose, in one of the other vessels. “From certain signs I know that the red vermin mean mischief.”
This fellow was a Kentuckian who, for some misdemeanor, had been outlawed in his own state and had then lived among the Crow Indians, who had made him a chief. Ashley did not like him and believed him to be a villain. Eddie, however, knew that he spoke with keen knowledge of the redskins. He, therefore, turned around and cried loudly:
“Ashley, look out for the Indians! They mean mischief!”
To this, the head of the expedition paid not the slightest attention. Instead, he pushed forward, anchored his boat close in shore, near a long strip of small cottonwood trees, and pulled out his pipe, smoking it complacently.
“Be ready for an ambush,” said Rose, “I know that the Arickaras are in an ugly mood.”
“Oh, pshaw!” answered Ashley. “The red men are over anxious to trade. It has been ten years since they have been on the war-path against the whites and I know that they will treat us well. Why, man, these Indians love me like a brother.”
Rose frowned.
“I have lived among these redskins for many moons,” said he. “And I know them like a book. Look out. They mean trouble!”