“He is no enemy to despise,” replied Boston. “When you have an open, avowed enemy, you know how to guard against him; but a sneaking fellow like this, who would shoot you from behind a bush, is more to be feared. He is full of energy, and will come upon you in impossible places. In the assault to-night, look out for him!”
“You think they will come, then?”
“They are not the men to be laggards. I can not understand what Carl was doing here. He certainly was not sent out on purpose to shoot you. I could give a reason if I knew where Wampset was.”
“I know just where he is encamped.”
“Where is he?”
“About twenty miles away. An Indian of the Narragansett tribe, who came into Windsor the day after you left, told us where he was. I know that man. He is an outcast from all tribes, and yet he maintains himself against any force they can bring against him. He must have a powerful mind.”
“He has. I have seen him once or twice, and he is a noble Indian. With all his prejudices against the whites, he has none of the cold-blooded animosity of Sassacus, nor the supercilious behavior of Mennawan. But this news troubles me. I doubt not he will come to the aid of the Dutch, for I have heard it said that Van Zandt once did him a great service which the Indian will not hesitate to repay, and now is the Dutchman’s time of want, if ever.”
“Then we have, indeed, much to dread, if Wampset is brought against us.”
“What Indians were at the post when you came away?”
“Only the young son of the Narragansett chief, the Fox.”