“Black Hawk also get red wampum and tobacco from many Indian nations,” continued Bright Star, after a period of further listening. “Ottoways, Chippeways, Foxes and Winnebagoes. All promise to take war-path at signal.” The talk about the campfire then drifted to other subjects, and somewhat later faded out altogether. The weary savages lay down to sleep, in a circle about the fire, leaving one, lone Indian to keep watch. Now the three lads in the thicket began their slow retreat. They were so careful about it, that it was all of a half-hour before they were far enough beyond the circle of the firelight to rise safely to their feet. But after that, they sped along the trail, which was plain before them; for the night clouds had now cleared away and a full moon and many big stars were shining. About a mile from the fort, Tom and Ben took leave of Bright Star, who now took a side-path toward his own village. Before parting, the three made plans to meet again the next afternoon at the lodge of the young warrior’s father, the great chief, Shaubena. There they would talk over the fateful news that they had just heard, also any new developments that might meanwhile arise. A half-hour later, Ben and Tom reached their lodging-place. It was now midnight and the two lads were very weary of body and dreadfully sleepy. They tumbled into bed without a moment’s delay and within five minutes were deep in slumber, dreaming mighty dreams, in which single-handed they were putting to rout the famed Black Hawk and his horde of painted braves. When Tom finally awoke, it was nearly mid-morning. The bright sunlight was streaming in at the uncurtained windows. The boy quickly sprang out of bed, and began to hurry into his clothes. Brother Ben opened his eyes at the same time, and sat up, stretching and yawning. “Get up, Ben,” said Tom energetically. “We’ve got to see Bill Brown and see him quick. That talk we overheard last evening at the campfire proves that Bill is dead right on this Black Hawk business.” After eating breakfast, rather hurriedly, they went over to Bill Brown’s lodging shanty. Luckily, they found him in, and were speedily pouring out the exciting story of last night’s adventure. The tall frontiersman was at once alert. The news stirred him greatly. He rose nervously from his chair and began to pace back and forth across the bare, sliver-torn, pine floor. “Ne-a-pope, you say!” he exclaimed. “Black Hawk’s second in command! An’ he’s been at a council with the pesky Britishers in Canada. Jumpin’ Jehosaphat! That is whoppin’, big news. Mebbe that fat-head of a Cap’n Van Alstyne ’ll pay some heed now.” “You saw him yesterday?” asked Ben. “Yep, an’ got roundly insulted fer my trouble.” “Why, the stubborn old goat!” protested Tom, his face reddening with indignation.