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All other Indians may take the war-trail, but Black Kettle will forever keep friendship with his white brothers." Such were his honeyed words. The commander of the fort issued to each brave a bountiful supply of flour and bacon and beans and coffee. Beyond the shadow of the fort they feasted that night.
The Siwanois smiled to himself and smoked. Then he passed the pipe to me. I drew it twice, rendered it. "Come," said I, "have you then news that we take the war-trail soon?" "The war-trail is always open for those who seek it. When my younger brother makes ready for a trail, does he summon it to come to him by magic, or does he seek it on his two legs?"
"Sequitah is great chief," he said quietly, "a warrior of many battles, the friend of La Salle. We have smoked the peace-pipe together, and walked side by side on the war-trail. Sequitah knows who speaks?" "The French warrior they call De Artigny." "Right; 'tis not the first time you and I have met the Iroquois!
"The band," continued Rube, "needn't come to the Peenyun spring no howsomever. They kin cross the war-trail higher up to to'rst the Heely, an' meet us on t'other side o' the mountain, whur thur's a grist o' game, both cattle an' buffler. A plenty o' both on the ole mission lands, I'll be boun'. We'd hev to go thur anyways.
Not finding him there, should they not discover our tracks, they would return upon the war-trail to their country. This, we all saw, would render our expedition impracticable, as Dacoma's band alone outnumbered us; and should we meet them in their mountain fastnesses, we should have no chance of escape. For some time Seguin remained silent, with his eyes fixed on the ground.
Near the trail, and overlooking it, a high mountain rises out of the plain. It is the Pinon. It was our design to reach this mountain, and "cacher" among the rocks, near a well-known spring, until our enemies should pass; but to effect this we would have to cross the war-trail, and our own tracks would betray us. Here was a difficulty which had not occurred to Seguin.
"I wonder where those fellows were going?" observed Carlos; "they evidently did not belong to this part of the country, or they would have found us out before." "Me tink dey go norf on war-trail to join de great chief Oceola," observed Jup. "Dey say 'fore long de red men kill all de Palefaces in de country, an' agin have it for demselves."
They will doubtless return on the war-trail again; but I know the country by the mine." "So do I! So do I!" cried several voices. "There is no game," continued Seguin. "We have no provisions; it is therefore impossible for us to go that way." "We couldn't go it, nohow." "We should starve before we had got through the Mimbres." "Thar's no water that way."
Twice or thrice that distance down-stream is much easier, so that no greatly difficult journey remained ahead of our travelers between their last camp and the old Hudson Bay post known as Peace River Landing, which perhaps Moise would have called the end of the old war-trail from Little Slave Lake the point near the junction of the Peace and Smoky rivers which has in it so much strategic value, whether in war or in peace.
I watched him disappear up the street in a sort of swinging dog-trot, took one more glance backward at the huge war-ship, now swinging by her cable silent and mysterious as ever, and turned away from the river front, my brain teeming with a scheme upon the final issue of which hung life or death. I had seldom assumed disguise, except when wearing Indian garb upon the war-trail.
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