As my old readers know, Jean Bevoir was a crafty rascal who in the past had given the Morris family endless trouble. Years before he had claimed the spot upon which James Morris's first trading-post was built, and ever since he had argued that the profits of the Morris trading-post belonged to him. During the war he had done much to harm the Morrises, and during the uprising of the past year he had done his best to make Dave a prisoner. But he had been driven off and had received wounds which if not serious were decidedly annoying.
Jean Bevoir was now an outcast, so far as the better class of French trappers and traders were concerned, and the English traders wanted absolutely nothing to do with him. Under such circumstances the Frenchman had gathered around him a number of Indians belonging to the Wanderers, the Sacs, and the Ottawas, and the two wild fellow countrymen just mentioned, and with these he proposed to plunder whatever place gave him the chance. He did not know yet if it would pay to attack the Morris post, but had resolved to investigate before pushing further to the southward. He knew he could do nothing at the north, for he had learned privately that all the attacks in the vicinity of the Great Lakes were to be under the directions of Pontiac and he and the great Indian chief were no longer on good terms.
"My white brother is welcome," said Black Ear, on meeting Jean Bevoir. He spoke in his native tongue, for the Frenchman understood the Indian language very well. It was said that the rascally trader had Indian blood in his veins.
"What have you been doing?" asked Bevoir.
Knowing that he could trust the man before him, Black Ear related what had occurred. Jean Bevoir listened with close attention. It pleased him to know that James Morris had been shot.
"I trust that you killed him," he said, cold-bloodedly. "And how many do you think are now at the post?"
This was a question Black Ear either could not or would not answer correctly, and he said he thought about nine or ten, of whom several were wounded.
"You know how to fight these white men," said he, in a flattering tone. "Make an attack, and Black Ear will aid all he can." He knew that he could no longer get his own warriors to lead in the onslaught.
Jean Bevoir was only too willing to attack James Morris's post, but said that he and his followers must first have time to rest and get something to eat. A deer had been shot while on the march, and this was cut up and prepared as the Frenchman and the Indians desired. The party also carried a cask of rum, and each person was given a small horn of this. The liquor set the Indians wild and they uttered whoop after whoop as they danced around the camp, tomahawks in hand, shouting out how they were going to capture the post and slay every man in it.
In the meantime, after the Indians had withdrawn from the vicinity of the trading-post, Henry begged his uncle to allow him to go outside and learn, if possible, what the enemy intended to do next.