But no visiting Sioux turned up, although the boats waited all day. At night another dance was given.
“We in bad feex,” asserted One-eyed Cruzatte. “Dose Teton, dey keep us. I t’ink dey plan mischief. I wish we go on.”
Everybody was nervous.
“Now I wonder if we’re in for a fight,” spoke Corporal Warfington.
“Sure,” said Patrick Gass, “we can lick ’em.”
Amidst the dusk ashore, while Peter, tired of the noise and dancing, was wandering a few steps, a low voice hailed him, in Oto.
“Hist! You Oto?” It was one of the Omaha squaws. How could she have guessed that he had been an Oto?
“No. White,” responded Peter.
“Tell your chiefs the Sioux are bad. They will not let the big boats go. They play you a trick.”