Before the chieftain could formulate a scheme, the shrewd Finley was ready with that which he had formed while crossing the river in the canoe.
"Let Wa-on-mon go to the rock that lies yonder," he said, pointing up the stream, "it is but a small way beyond this camp; the rock is only the size of a canoe, and it is hardly above the surface of the water; does my brother know it?"
"Wa-on-mon knows where his brother, the missionary, means," replied the chieftain, thrilling the good man by the term used.
"Will he be there when the sun appears above the tree-tops?"
"Wa-on-mon will be there, armed only with his knife."
"It shall be the same with the white hunter."
But the sagacious Panther saw the difficulties that still confronted them. His "brother" had clinched the confidence the chieftain held in him by his selection of the battle-ground for the Kentucky side of the Ohio, not far from the Shawanoe camp. This reduced, as far as possible, the chances of treachery by the white men, and conceded a most important point to those with whom treachery has always been a cardinal virtue.
"The missionary will see that the white hunter is by the rocks when it begins to grow light in the east."
"Then what will the missionary do?"
"He will come back to the camp of Wa-on-mon and await his return."