For the moment after James Morris made the announcement that he might kill the Indian discovered by Henry in the bundle of skins, there was silence on the part of the Indian chief outside the palisade of the trading-post.
"My white brother is hard-hearted," said Rain Cloud at last. "Why must there be trouble between us?"
"The trouble is not of my making," answered the trader. "Rain Cloud is playing false. The Indian in the bundle was not drunk. Rain Cloud and his warriors must go away. I have had my say."
"Rain Cloud will go away," answered the Indian, and turning he vanished into the wilderness from whence he had come.
"Do you think he will really go away?" questioned Henry.
"I wish I could answer that question truthfully," said his uncle. "Perhaps he will go—for fear we may kill our prisoner."
"Who is the prisoner?"
"Some kind of an under chief, by his outfit. He will not tell his name."
Jadwin was anxious to know the result of the conference, he having been too far away to hear all that was said. The trader hurried to the old hunter and explained the situation.
"Don't trust 'em," said Jadwin. "We've got to do our best to hold the post till morning."