“Why, John,” said Ree, “I believe we are safer to-night than at any time since we left Fort Pitt. Capt. Pipe may be a bad Indian, but he would fight for us, if need be, while we are his guests. He might scalp us to-morrow after we have said good-bye, but when we are in his house as friends, we will be protected.”
CHAPTER XI.
Again a Hidden Enemy.
The boys were early astir the following morning. As soon as they were up Capt. Pipe’s wife placed a dish of boiled corn, like hominy, before them, and this was their breakfast. A little later, telling Capt. Pipe of the great amount of work they had to do, the lads bade him good-bye, the chief giving them each a pouch of parched corn, and sending an Indian to take them in a canoe across the lake.
It was two hours past noon when Tom Fish suddenly started up from the broiled turkey with which he was regaling himself, as he heard some one approach, and discovered Ree and John returning. He greeted them gladly, but not in his usual hilarious fashion, and they could not but notice how unlike himself he was as he carved for them some juicy slices from the fine young gobbler he had cooked. Yet he listened with interest to Ree’s account of their trip, John often breaking in with such jolly comment as: “You should have heard those Indians talk! Why they beat a quilting bee for gabbling, except that they didn’t all talk at once.”
“But they are real orators,” added Ree quite soberly. “I’ve heard that an Indian has three ambitions—to be a mighty hunter, a great warrior and a grand orator; and there are some splendid speakers among the Delawares.”
“The’s some red-handed, bloody murderers among ’em, too, I kin tell ye,” Tom Fish growled. “I got no rest whilst ye was gone, a thinkin’ of it.”
“Has anything happened, Tom?” asked Ree, struck by his friends grave manner.