It was in the early winter, but the day came out bright and clear. Greatly the boys enjoyed the bright sunshine and the bracing air as they took their way through the woods, crossing the river at last, and following a much used trail which took them toward the Delawares’ village. This was a new route to them, but it was the course the Indians traveled and they found it better than the unbroken way they had previously taken in going to the lake beside which Capt. Pipe’s people lived. As they walked along Ree told the story of Arthur Bridges as Tom had told it to him, and earnestly they discussed their situation.
In three hours the boys came to the Indian town, and Capt. Pipe called a council to settle the bargain for the land. There was speech making as before, but less of it, and then came a feast. But this too, was less formal than before. The Indians seemed about to go on a hunting expedition and had less time for other matters.
The Delawares promised to do much trading with the young Palefaces, and the boys would have considered their prospects very bright had it not been for the likelihood of trouble arising through Tom Fish’s desire for revenge.
The little information Ree secured from Fishing Bird was not at all re-assuring, either. That agreeable, but none the less wily, savage would give him no satisfaction when he questioned him concerning the bloody trophy Big Buffalo had had, declaring, indeed, that no white man had been killed by the Delawares for a very long time.
The boys started on their homeward way in time to arrive before dark, and reached the clearing just after sundown. With a hop, step and jump John ran forward and up the ascent, to the door.
“Why, where is Tom?” he called as he entered. “The fire is out and there is no sign of him anywhere. He said he would stay here all day.”