Jack and Joe came up and Hugh said, “Now, take these men’s guns and ammunition and carry them over to our tent and then come back.”
The men gave up their arms and cartridges, and the boys took them away and then returned.
“Now,” said Hugh, “take down that tent and get everything you’ve got into the boat. Now, Tony,” he said, addressing the man whom he held, “if I let you go, will you be quiet, and go and get into that boat and go away?”
“You bet I will,” said Tony, “I’d like to get as far from you as I could.”
“Go on,” said Hugh. “Go down to the boat and sit there,” and the man staggered off.
“Now,” said Hugh, “you men are drunk, both of you; and sometimes drunken men tell lies. I want to look through your baggage and see if you have any arms.”
He searched their blankets, but found nothing. Then he and the boys helped the three men take down their tent and carry their property down to the boat, and then before they pushed off, Hugh said, “Now, I know you’ve got some friends down here, Bloods, I think, and you may as well go down and camp with them, but don’t try to get the Indians to trouble us. You Williamson and you Louis, know me. This man here,” and he pointed to Tony, “does not.
“You two men know that I want trouble with no one, but you know also that I don’t mean to be imposed on by anyone. If I find any of you men lurking around my camp, I shall probably shoot you for horse thieves. As for your property that I’ve taken, I’ll leave it at the trader’s store, and you can get it when you come in. I suppose your whiskey is cached in the brush somewhere here, but you can get along without it for a day or two. We are going into the Agency pretty soon, and after we have gone you can come and get it, if you want to. Go now, and don’t let me see you again on this trip.”
Hugh loosened the painter from the old log to which it was tied, tossed it into the boat, and when Louis and Williamson had gotten out their oars, he put his foot against the bow and pushed the boat off into the swiftly running water.
For fifty or sixty yards it went down stream stern foremost, and then the two men by clumsy strokes turned it round, and in a few minutes it vanished around a bend, and the last thing the boys saw was the bowed form of the burly man sitting in the stern, still nursing his crushed ribs.