"Is anything missing?"
"Yes, my old hunting knife, and that rifle Dave used to use before he got his new one."
"We can be thankful that he didn't throw all the extra arms over the stockade."
"Perhaps he was afraid of being seen. He may have slipped away under our very noses."
"If he went out to join the others we'll be sure to hear from them before the night is over," said Henry.
Black Ear had gone over the palisade less than ten minutes before. It had been a hard task to release himself from his bonds and it had cost him a badly skinned wrist. He had thought of little else but flight, fearing the whites would come after him any instant, and had picked up the old knife and gun only because they chanced to be handy.
Once outside, the Indian lost no time in joining Rain Cloud and the others of the band to which he belonged. They were surprised to see him and listened to his story with keen attention.
"They are now but five or six persons in the post," said Black Ear, in his native tongue. "Perhaps on the morrow there will be a dozen or more. Now is the time to strike."
"My brother is right," answered Rain Cloud. "We should have struck before, but the trader threatened you with death. Now we are free to act, and the sooner 'tis done, the more certain we are of victory."
All told, the Indians under Rain Cloud numbered twenty-two. They were of several tribes, gotten together more for plunder than for the purpose of aiding the conspiracy which will be described in detail later on. Several of them had aided Jean Bevoir in the past, and had heard from the rascally French trader that James Morris was rich and had much of value stored at his trading-post.