As he paused for breath the girl quietly said:
“Now, answer me.”
And I blurted out:
“I don’t have any idea that Black Hoof and his warriors will hesitate a second in sacking Howard’s Creek because of anything your father has said or could say. I honestly believe the Shawnees are playing a game, that they are hoping the settlers are silly enough to think themselves safe. I am convinced that once Black Hoof believes the settlers are in that frame of mind he will return and strike just as venomously as the Shawnees struck in the old French War and in Pontiac’s War, after feasting with the whites and making them believe the red man was their friend.”
She straightened and drew a deep breath, and in a low voice said:
“At last you’ve answered me. Now go!”
I withdrew from the cabin and from the group of men. Dale’s heavy voice was doubly hateful in my ears. The settlement was a small place. Patsy had dismissed me, and there was scarcely room for me without my presence giving her annoyance. I went to the cabin where I had left my few belongings and filled my powder-horn and shot-pouch. I renewed my stock of flints and added to my roll of buckskins, not forgetting a fresh supply of “whangs” for sewing my moccasins. While thus engaged Uncle Dick came in and began sharpening his knife at the fireplace.
“Why do that?” I morosely asked. “You are safe from Indian attacks now the trader has told the Shawnees you are under his protection.”
He leered at me cunningly and ran his thumb along the edge of the knife and muttered:
“If some o’ th’ varmints will only git within strikin’-distance! They sure ran away night before last, but how far did they go? Dale seems to have a pert amount o’ authority over ’em; but how long’s he goin’ to stay here? He can’t go trapezin’ up ’n’ down these valleys and keep men ’n’ women from bein’ killed by jest hangin’ some white wampum on ’em.”