White Thunder delivered the wampum belt to the Delawares of the Susquehanna. They promised to join the Mingos in the march to the Albany council. This promise was made quickly, for the trophy of the Catawba scalp spread excitement. As soon as the Delawares learned that the Catawbas were in the country they made ready to pursue, on the war trail.
Big Bear commanded the Delawares. The Mingos were invited to join, and travel home that way. So they all set out, to see what had become of the Catawbas.
The forest seemed peaceful again. It was hard to believe that danger lurked among the trees, but the scalp at White Thunder’s belt showed what might happen at any moment.
In the second night the rain commenced; and when they wakened at daybreak they were wet and the forest was wet and soon the trails would be washed bare.
“This is bad,” said Big Bear. “But we will go on and maybe the rain will stop. If it doesn’t, our guns will be wet and we will be blind, and the Catawba will get away.”
The rain did not stop. At noon they halted, to talk.
“I feel that somebody is following us,” said Aroas, to Big Bear. “We should be careful.”
“The Mingo is thinking of his wife and a lodge fire,” answered Big Bear. “He hears the rain drip and it sounds to him like the feet of a Catawba. But the Delaware mean to strike the Catawba.”
“Just the same,” insisted Aroas, “there are enemy near. The Delaware have seen that the Mingo are not afraid, but these woods are full of evil.”
And even while he was speaking a gun cracked and with a screech a Delaware warrior sprang high and fell flat. In an instant everybody had dived behind a tree. From his tree trunk the Hunter, squatting low like a partridge, listened breathlessly. A Delaware, peeking, suddenly pointed his gun, and fired—and in the same moment a gun answered him and he dropped, shot through the head. A man yelled loudly, and darted backward into the brush. Robert glimpsed him—a large man, with long black hair and dark skin, in leggins and hunting shirt and fur cap. That was not an Indian. Big Bear leaped forward, and his gun only snapped upon the flint, for the priming was wet.