But Raven would not look at the bundle and proceeded to pack up the spoils of his barter. Earnestly the Stonies appealed to Little Thunder, but in vain. Angrily they remonstrated, but still without result. At length Little Thunder pointed to the pony and without hesitation White Cloud placed the bridle rein in his hands.
Cameron could contain himself no longer. Suddenly rising from his place he strode to the side of the Indians and cried, “Don't do it! Don't be such fools! This no good,” he said, kicking the keg. “What would Mr. Macdougall say? Come! I go with you. Take back these furs.”
He stepped forward to seize the second pack. Swiftly Little Thunder leaped before him, knife in hand, and crouched to spring. The Stonies had no doubt as to his meaning. Their hearts were filled with black rage against the unscrupulous trader, but their insane thirst for the “fire-water” swept from their minds every other consideration but that of determination to gratify this mad lust. Unconsciously they ranged themselves beside Cameron, their hands going to their belts. Quietly Raven spoke a few rapid words to Little Thunder, who, slowly putting up his knife, made a brief but vigourous harangue to the Stonies, the result of which was seen in the doubtful glances which they cast upon Cameron from time to time.
“Come on!” cried Cameron again, laying his hand upon the nearest Indian. “Let's go to your camp. Take your furs. He is a thief, a robber, a bad man. All that,” sweeping his hand towards Raven's goods, “no good. This,” kicking the keg, “bad. Kill you.”
These words they could not entirely understand, but his gestures were sufficiently eloquent and significant. There was an ugly gleam in Raven's eyes and an ugly curl to his thin lips, but he only smiled.
“Come,” he said, waving his hand toward the furs, “take them away. Tell them we don't want to trade, Little Thunder.” He pulled out his flask, slowly took a drink, and passed it to Little Thunder, who greedily followed his example. “Tell them we don't want to trade at all,” insisted Raven.
Little Thunder volubly explained the trader's wishes.
“Good-bye,” said Raven, offering his hand to White Cloud. “Good friends,” he added, once more passing him his flask.
“Don't!” said Cameron, laying his hand again upon the Indian's arm. For a single instant White Cloud paused.
“Huh!” grunted Little Thunder in contempt. “Big chief scared.”