"What seeks the White Chief?" he questioned bluntly. "Does he come for peace or war?"
The query came with such grave abruptness that Heald hesitated in reply.
"Never since I have been at Dearborn have I sought war," he replied at last. "Little Sauk knows this well. We travel now that we may have council of peace with the chiefs of the Pottawattomies. See!" and he held up both empty hands before the Indian's eyes, "we are both unarmed, because of our trust in the good faith of your people."
Little Sauk uttered a low grunt of disapproval, and made no motion to lower his threatening rifle.
"Ugh! You talk strong! Did any Pottawattomie send to White Chief to come to council?"
"No," admitted Heald. "We come because it is the wish of the Great Father of the white men down by the sea that we talk together of the wrongs of the red men, and make proposals of peace between us. There is no cause for these rumors of war, and the Great Father has heard that the Pottawattomies are dissatisfied, and it has made him sad."
The Indian looked from one to the other of us in the growing darkness, and made a gesture of contempt.
"The real Great White Father wears a red coat, and is friend to the Pottawattomie," he said with dignity. "He no lie, no shut Indian out of Fort, no steal furs, no throw rum in river. Who this man, White Chief? He no soldier,--he long-knife."
"Yes, he is a frontiersman, and came to the Fort yesterday with Wau-me-nuk, bringing word of greeting from the Great Father to the Pottawattomies. He goes now with me to council. May we pass on to your camp?"
For a moment Little Sauk did not answer, stepping closer in order that he might better scan my features. Apparently satisfied by the keen scrutiny, he turned his broad back upon us and strode off with contemptuous dignity.
"Come," he said shortly; and without further word we followed across that dim plain and through the thickening darkness.
The Indian's step was noiseless, and his figure cast the merest shadow; but as we moved onward others constantly joined us, stalking out of the black night like so many phantoms, gliding silently in their noiseless moccasins across the soft grass, until fully a dozen spectral forms hedged our pathway and kept step to every movement. It was a weird procession, through the shifting night-shadows; and although I could catch but fleeting glimpses of those savage faces and half-naked forms, the knowledge of their presence, and our own helplessness if they proved treacherous, caused my heart to throb till I could hear it in the painful silence like the beat of a drum. Now and then a guttural voice challenged from the darkness, to be instantly answered by those in advance, and another savage glided within our narrowed vision, scanned us with cruel and curious eyes, and fell in with the same silent, tiger-like tread of his fellows.