A count was made, and it was found that nine whites and four Indians were in fit condition to go on guard. Two of the others had been wounded in the legs, but they declared that they would sit by and load the guns, if another attack should come. All realized that they must do their utmost, or run the risk of being killed and scalped.
But for the time being the followers of Black Ear had had enough of the struggle. They had not anticipated so desperate a resistance, and a few were in favor of marching away altogether.
"The trading-post is too strong—it cannot be taken," said one. "The white men are better shots than Little Wolf thought. They have eyes like eagles."
While the red men were in conference an Indian who had been acting as a guard came running in with the news that fifteen Indians and three white men were approaching from the north.
"One of the white men is a French trader," said the warrior who brought the news. "He once had a trading-post here."
At this news Black Ear's face brightened.
"It must be Jean Bevoir," he said. "He was to join us long ago, but could not get here."
"Will he aid those at the post?" questioned another.
"Not he. James Morris and Jean Bevoir are as the wolf and the wildcat. They hate each other."
After a few words more, Black Ear went out to meet Jean Bevoir, who was coming through the forest accompanied by two Frenchmen named Planette and Delot. The latter two were wild, harum-scarum fellows, out for any deed of daring which might promise a rich reward.