"I haven't any rum."
"Give Indians a little tobacco."
"I'll do that," said James Morris, and handed over a fair-sized pouch full. For this the red men seemed to be very grateful, and hurried away, saying that they would come back with Black Ear in the morning and do their trading.
"Very well," said Mr. Morris. "I'll do the best I can by you."
He followed the red men to the gates, and after they were gone barred the barriers as carefully as before. The Indians did not look back, but plunged at once into the depths of the forest. When they were out of sight of the post one Indian looked suggestively at his companion.
"Think you did the white trader suspect?" asked one, in his native tongue.
"He suspected nothing," was the reply. "The plan was too well laid."
"We must hurry and tell Rain Cloud and let him gather the others. At the cry of the whip-poor-will we must stand ready to fall upon the post and kill all who are stationed there."