“Come along with me. I’ll fix you,” the white boy bade.
He took the Hunter (hobbling proudly) to a house where there were medicines and a French doctor. The house was called a hospital. Here the few cuts from the clubs and switches were greased, but the cuts did not amount to much. He said nothing about his ankle.
The white boy’s name was James Smith. He too had been captured—had been captured in the woods of Pennsylvania and brought here; had had to run the gantlet, but had not got off so easily as Robert.
Now for a second time Robert found himself in Fort Duquesne of the French, and wondering how he was to get out. Nobody appeared to pay much attention to him, but the whole place was much excited, as if not knowing what to do. The army of English and Long Knives was coming.
The French and the Indians of course knew this. Spies were keeping watch; Indians were constantly passing in through the gates, with word of the English, and French parties hastened out to scout the trails. For the Hunter to get back to Gist and Scarouady and Washington might be difficult.
He saw Guyasuta, but Guyasuta pretended not to notice him and he put in most of the daytime with James Smith. James had been here for a week and more and had picked up much information.
The French officers were not the same as last fall. Contrecoeur who had driven Ward away was still commander; his captains were now men named Beaujeu, Dumas, and Ligneris. Langlade, the half-Ottawa, was here too; while inside and outside the fort there were the Indians—more kinds than the Hunter had ever seen together before.
A great many from the Big Lakes of the north—French Iroquois, the Hurons, Potawatomis, Ojibwas and Ottawas; besides Wyandots and Delawares and Shawnees and Mingos from the Ohio Country; all in their best costumes of bright blankets, fringed leggins, and beaded or quilled moccasins, and red, yellow and blue paint, with strips of black also.
Black Hoof of the Shawnees was here; Shingis, Beaver and Killbuck of the Delawares; Pontiac, the war chief of the Ottawas, and old Nissowaquet, head chief of all the Ottawas, whose sister was Langlade’s wife; Anastase, head chief of the Hurons; oh, a score of famous chiefs, all helping the French.