Listening to the conversation of the braves, and at the same time endeavouring to frame his plans for the destruction of the Sioux, he sat silent for some time. The presence of white men in the camp of the Sioux alone disquieted him; it prevented his openly proposing to the Indians who were with him to attack the camp, and joining them himself in doing so.
The death on the prairies of two Indians would have mattered little, but the murder of two white men was an event that might give rise to unpleasant questions being asked in the Red River; and when next he visited his home there, it might be to find himself charged with complicity or actual share in the crime.
He pretended therefore not to have heard much of what the Assineboines had been speaking among themselves, but to approach his object from an outside point altogether.
[Watching an opportunity, and addressing himself to the leader of the band], he began.
[Watching an opportunity, the trader addressed the leader of the band.]
“I see no trace of war,” he said, “and I hear of no horses having been captured. Are the Crees too strong, that your braves have feared to encounter them? or do they watch their horses so closely that you cannot get near them?”
The taunt struck the mark it had been aimed at. “We have not taken scalps,” replied the leader, “because the Crees keep together and shun our presence. The horses of the Crees are fleet to run away; but it may not be long,” he added, “before we have horses, and scalps too.”
“I want some good horses,” went on the trader, “and I will give a large price for them; but they must be of the right kind—not small, starved ponies, but mustangs of size and power, fit for a chief to ride.”