At last, just as it was growing light in the east, some of the Delawares came back and with them White Buffalo. Each of the party carried a fresh scalp at his girdle and the chief looked the pride he felt.
“White Buffalo!” cried Dave, and ran to meet him and shake hands. “You did us a great service.”
“White Buffalo heap glad to help his white brothers.”
“Did you know the Miamis were coming here?”
“White Buffalo learn something of it—but not much. March here to make sure. Know white boy’s father is away.”
“You are indeed a friend, White Buffalo, and father will not forget this, nor will I. Had you not come up it might have gone badly with us.”
“It is the work of the French, not of the Miamis,” went on the Indian. “Red Bird was paid for this work. A brave told me he saw the wampums passed, at a meeting last full moon.”
“Did Jean Bevoir give the wampums?”
“He did, but they came not from Bevoir but from a greater trader—a French half-breed named Joncaire, he who is close to the French governor.”
“Captain Joncaire!”