"By heavens! I remember leaving that ridge away to the right, which proves that the white dogs must have been on my trail. I took pains enough to conceal it before that night; but if they got the better of me, I don't think they did of the rain that fell afterwards--so that they have doubtless found themselves on a fool's errand, long ere this, and given up the search. Besides, should they reach the river's bank, they have no means of crossing, and therefore we are safe." Wild-cat seemed to muse on the remarks of Girty, for a moment or two, and then said: "Why did Mishemenetoc[10] give the chief cunning, but that he might use it against his foes?--why caution, but that he might avoid danger?" "Why that, of course, is all well enough at times," answered Girty; "but I don't think either particular cunning or caution need be exercised now--from the fact that I don't believe there is any danger. Even should the enemies you saw be fool-hardy enough to follow us, they are not many in number probably, and will only serve to add a few more scalps to our girdles. However, we are safe for to-night, at all events; for if they reach the river, as I said before, they won't be able to cross, unless they make a raft or swim it; and you may rest assured, Peshewa, they will sleep on the other side, if for nothing else than their own safety." "What, therefore, does my brother propose?" asked Wild-cat. "Why, I am for encamping, as soon as we can find a suitable spot--say within a mile of here--for by ----! I am not only hungry but cold, and my very bones ache, from traveling in this untimely storm, which I perceive is on the point of clearing up." "Peshewa likes not sleeping with danger so near," replied the savage. "Well, I'm not _afraid_," rejoined Girty, laying particular stress on the latter word; "and so suppose you take the prisoners, with a part of the band, and go forward, while myself and the balance remain behind to reconnoitre in the morning; for by ----! that will be time enough to look for the lazy white dogs. Yet stay!" he added, a moment after, as if struck by a new thought. "Suppose you take the two Big Knives, and leave the squaws with me--for being very tired, they will only be a drag upon your party--and then you can have the stakes ready for the others, if you get in first, so that we can have the music of their groans to make us merry on our second meeting." To this latter proposition, the chief gave a grunt of assent, and the whole matter being speedily arranged, the council ended.