"So?" he snarled, sudden rage whelming in him. Swiftly, he reached out and kicked me with a vicious foot. I gathered myself together, but brown hands gripped me and held me there helpless, while he raved wildly in his madness. And by that I knew that he had lied, and that Radisson was not dead. So I laughed at him as they bound me hand and foot.
More than one of his men seemed wounded beneath their furs, and beside the fire lay two silent warriors. We were in the center of the group of lodges, and as there were but half a score of men around me, I gathered that the rest were scattered through the trees on watch. There was no sign of Ruth, and with that I set myself to taunt mine enemy, speaking in the Cree which all his men doubtless could understand.
"You are a fine leader of men, my brother! Well were you called The Pike—crafty, cowardly warrior who shuns the shallow water! See, in our village lies your chief Soan-ge-ta-ha, while our women laugh at him, and in the snow lies one of his young men, dead. The Cree knives are sharpened, my brothers, and with them are the knives of Radisson, the White Eagle, and of his friends, the Brothers of the Thunder." For this was the name by which the two Mohawks went in all that north country.
My words, as they were designed, sent a swirl of rage through the Chippewas, who with a growl turned on Gib. But he, the crafty one, appeased them swiftly.
"Brave Heart is not hurt, my brothers," he cried. "My medicine tells me that he is even now on his way to join us. As for you, Brave Eyes, you lie. The White Eagle has no men with him—only the tall Mohawk chief."
"Yes, mayhap," I answered, "but these twain are more than a match for your Chippewa women. You stole upon our village, and what gained you? Only one poor captive. It was a great raid, worthy of The Pike, and you have paid for it dearly with your chief and your young men. And the White Eagle is sharpening his claws, my brothers—out there in the night somewhere."
My words reached them, and more than my words. For barely had I finished, when the darkness was split asunder by a musket-shot. The man beside Gib whirled about and fell into the fire.
"Scatter!" foamed Gib, raging. "Scatter and slay the White Eagle, fools! Out with the fire!"
The embers were dashed over the snows instantly, and under his rapid orders the band vanished. Two of them remained to lift me, and they carried me to the door of one of the lodges, a little apart from the rest. Gib flung away the flap, and by the light of the lodge-fire inside I saw the pale, frightened face of Ruth.
"What means this intrusion?" she demanded in French, not seeing me. "I thought we were to remain unmolested!"