Both the little redskins slowly nodded their heads in solemn confirmation of all they had said.
“From Fort Pitt a runner came, telling Hopocon how Fishing Bird a prisoner is—made a prisoner by Captain Wayne’s warriors,” said Long-Hair with the air of being a full-fledged warrior himself. “Gentle Maiden said Long-Hair must come fast and tell White Fox.”
“Little Wolf come too,” said the other youngster, bound to be included.
“You both did just right. Gentle Maiden did right also; for White Fox will not for a great deal let harm come to Fishing Bird, if he can help it,” Kingdom briskly replied. “White Fox is going right away to ‘Captain’ Wayne’s men. Little Brothers will go back and tell Gentle Maiden this. Tell Gentle Maiden, and any others who ask, that Fishing Bird shall be set free if White Fox and Little Paleface can possibly do it.”
Even as he spoke, Ree’s mind was made up. In fifteen minutes he had saddled Phoebe, turned Neb out to graze and was closing the cabin preparatory to a rapid ride to Wayne’s encampment. The Indian boys watched him gallop across the clearing, his rifle hanging before him from the saddle, his powder horn and bullet pouch, both freshly refilled, slung from his shoulder, his blanket and a hastily collected supply of provisions taking the usual place of saddle bags.
“White Fox is a mighty warrior,” said Little Wolf admiringly.
“White Fox is too good to be a Paleface. Fishing Bird says the same thing,” Long-Hair made answer.
But Lone-Elk and a white man who was with him, crouching in the bushes by the river, watched the young horseman speed into the woods with altogether different feelings.
Fishing Bird had been a prisoner in the strong, log guard-house more than four days at the time Kingdom dashed away to his rescue. The friendly Delaware, together with three others, had made the journey to the Ohio, drawn thither by curiosity, and perhaps, too, with some expectation of gaining intelligence of the increasing strength of the white commander’s forces.
Friendly Indians were coming and going in the vicinity of Wayne’s “Legion” constantly, and the Delawares undoubtedly counted upon being classed among the neutral savages. But “Mad Anthony” was not asleep. While he waited to receive new recruits from the east, and drill his men to a point of proper efficiency, before making a start into hostile Indian country, he was constantly informing himself of the doings of the redskins in the interior—in the northwest country, where, he knew, the inevitable battle would eventually be.