Wahbunou’s mother had to unpack the drum from her housekeeping belongings, but she did not protest because Chief Minnemung had ordered Jim to play.
Jim beat the drum with all his might, executing some long rolls and difficult ruffles. Now and then he would toss a drumstick into the air and catch it again without missing a beat. At this the Indians grinned in glee at his skill.
Jim played until he was exhausted, all the while hoping to see the Long-Knives coming to the camp. But no one came, and nothing broke the stillness of the summer night save the beating of his drum.
At last Chief Minnemung signaled for him to stop playing. Immediately all the Indians lay down to sleep. Wahbunou’s mother forgot to pack Jim’s drum away, so he put it carefully down on the ground between him and Wahbunou. Then he lay down and pretended to sleep.
He listened for a long time until he felt sure everyone was asleep; then he took his drum and began to crawl slowly from his place on the ground. But Wahbunou was not asleep. At Jim’s first move he whispered, “Jim, are you leaving?”
Jim turned and patted Wahbunou’s shoulder. “Shh! Yes. Thanks, Wahbunou. I’ll never forget you.”
Wahbunou sighed but did not reply, so Jim felt sure his secret was safe with his Indian friend. Wahbunou would not fail him.
He continued to inch along the ground with the drum, stopping every few feet to see if any of the other Indians had awakened; but save for Wahbunou, the camp was silent.
When he was certain he was far enough away not to be seen, Jim stood up; he fastened his drum and drumsticks to the belt encircling his long blue shirt, and looked at the sky. It was a beautiful summer night and the sky was filled with stars.
He studied them for a few minutes until he located the North Star and the Big Dipper. Then he began walking southwest, the way the Long-Knives had marched in the afternoon. Except for twinkling stars, the night was very black, because there was no moon.