Tom nodded and followed his companion into the cabin set apart for men and sat down at a table with two trappers, from where he could watch the game at close range, for he realized that the time for the gamblers to get the merchant's money also was getting short. Under the conditions almost anything might occur and he felt that he owed a debt to his friend for the part he had played during the fight with Schoolcraft.
Uncle Joe joined Stevens and a companion, who were idly playing and who seemed to be impatiently and nervously waiting for his appearance; soon a tense game was in progress. At a table in a corner from where the players could be closely watched Ephriam Schoolcraft, his face still badly bruised, was talking in sullen undertones to the little Mexican and another companion, while hunters, traders, trappers, and men of various other callings kept up a low hum of conversation throughout the cabin.
From one group came fragments of fur trade gossip: "Th' American Fur Company's talkin' about abandonin' Fort Van Buren. Thar's been a lot o' posts let go to grass th' last two years. Th' business ain't what it was ten year ago."
"On th' other hand," replied a companion, "Fox an' Livingston air goin' fer to put up a post at th' mouth o' th' Little Bighorn, which evens up fer Van Buren; an' Chardon's aimin' fer to put one up at th' mouth o' th' Judith. Th' trade's all right, only th' American's got more buckin' agin' it."
"'Tain't what it onct was, though," said a third trader. "Thar's too many posts an' private parties. Ye can't go nowhere hardly in th' Injun country without comin' slap up ag'in a post o' some kind. Thar's Zack: hey, Zack! Come over hyar!"
Zack, a mountain hunter and a free one, swung over and joined the group.
"Jest been palaverin' with some Canucks," he said. "Fur's I could git th' hang o' thar parley-vouz thar goin' up ter help open Fort William, at th' mouth o' th' Yallerstun, fer Fox an' Livingston. They sez Pratte an' Cabanne had took over Fort Platte, up nigh th' Laramie. How fur ye goin' on this packet, Smith?"
"Bellevue," answered Smith. "I'm headin' up th' Platte a-ways, if th' danged Pawnees let me git past. Pardner's waitin' near th' mouth with a bullboat. Reckon we kin count on enough water, this time o' year, fer ter float that; 'though I shore ain't bettin' on it," he chuckled.
Zack laughed. "Th' Platte shore comes close ter bein' all shadder an' no substance. Dangest stream I ever seen, an' I've seen a-plenty."
"Don't think a hull lot o' that country, nohow," said a third. "Them Pawnees air th' worst thieves an' murderers this side o' th' Comanchees. They kin steal yer shirt without techin' yer coat, danged if they can't. Blast 'em, I know 'em!"