As we have already intimated, he understood the Wyandot tongue, and he was eager to catch the expressions, especially those which fell from the lips of the chief himself.
"The pale-faces will come from the Ohio," were the first words which Stinger was able to hear, and they were uttered by Waughtauk himself; "if we wait until to-morrow, they will be here before nightfall."
This implied rather rapid traveling on the part of the party of rescue from Wild Oaks, and it was more than likely that the chief, with a view of adding force to his remarks, exaggerated matters to a certain extent.
"One of the Yenghese is abroad to-night," said the warrior next the chief. As he spoke, he took his pipe from his mouth and used it in gesticulating; "he has slain one of our braves."
"He shall die for his offence, as all the Yenghese shall die," replied the chieftain, in a voice so loud that the listener could have caught his meaning had he been a rod further away. "None of them shall see the sun rise again. They shall be burned in the block-house, which has encumbered our hunting-grounds too long."
This threat was only what might have been expected, but Waughtauk the next minute imparted the very tidings which Jo Stinger sought, and for the sake of which he had risked so much.
"The wind blows strong; the Great Spirit will soon fan the fire into a blaze, and will carry it from this cabin to the block-house."
There it was!
The whole scheme was laid bare to the scout in the last sentence spoken by the Wyandot chieftain. The wind was setting in strongly from the south, that is, from the building in which the three warriors gathered, directly toward the block-house.
Should the former be fired, the probability was the gale would carry the sparks to the other and set that in a blaze, in which event there would be scarcely an earthly hope left for a single one of the inmates.