“Great Jericho! ain’t you satisfied with getting off this time, without trying it again?”
“I have the Prophet’s word that no injury will befall me.”
Gummery Glyndon shook his head dubiously.
“You can’t trust to an Injun’s word,” he said. “They’re lyin’ cusses, the whole grist of ’em.”
“You can trust Smoholler’s word,” interposed Multuomah. “He will not harm the boys.”
“I agree with the chief,” remarked Lieutenant Gardiner. “The very fact of his having set them at liberty now is proof enough of that.”
“There’s something in that,” Glyndon admitted. “But didn’t Smoholler send us some message, Percy—some intimation to git up and git?”
“He certainly did,” replied Percy Vere. “He appears to be resolute that the survey shall not proceed, and he will force us to recross the river, he says, if we do not do so of our own accord. He told me that he should summon more of his warriors from his village at the Rapids, and, if necessary, he would call upon the surrounding tribes to aid him.”
“And they will do so,” said Multuomah.
“A pretty hornet’s nest we appear to have got into here,” cried Blaikie.