The Indian boy urged his horse to a faster pace. “Yes, Jim, I did. My people were going to a place I knew and I had a horse. You wouldn’t take my horse?” “No, Wahbunou, I wouldn’t steal your horse. But you must promise not to tell anyone about seeing the Long-Knives. I’ll steal away at night. I’ll find those men.” “But, Jim, you’d get lost in the dark. And Chief Minnemung would hear you. Indians have sharp ears.” “I’ll have the stars to guide me. My father taught me to tell direction by the stars. The Long-Knives certainly won’t march all night. I’ll find them, never fear.” Jim clutched Wahbunou more firmly. “Now promise me—no word about the Long-Knives.” Wahbunou gulped and finally said, “It shall be as you say. Wahbunou will say no word.” Thus the two boys made a solemn pact riding back to the Potawatomi band. When they finally arrived, the Indians had pitched camp in a small thicket adjoining the prairie. It was almost dark and the women had supper ready. Strangely enough no one had missed them, so the boys didn’t have to explain their absence. Evidently the Indians had neither heard nor seen the marching column of men, because they seemed as carefree as usual. After supper, as the Indians sat around the campfire, Chief Minnemung suddenly took a notion to have Jim play his drum. “Jim,” he said, “get your drum and play for us.” Nothing could have pleased Jim more. If his Long-Knives were within hearing distance and heard the roll of the drum, they might investigate the sound. He didn’t want to see his Indian friends hurt, but he did wish the Long-Knives would appear and take him with them. He rose quickly. “Yes, Chief Minnemung, I’ll be glad to play for you.” Wahbunou’s mother had to unpack the drum from her housekeeping belongings, but she did not protest because Chief Minnemung had ordered Jim to play. Jim beat the drum with all his might, executing some long rolls and difficult ruffles. Now and then he would toss a drumstick into the air and catch it again without missing a beat. At this the Indians grinned in glee at his skill. Jim played until he was exhausted, all the while hoping to see the Long-Knives coming to the camp. But no one came, and nothing broke the stillness of the summer night save the beating of his drum. At last Chief Minnemung signaled for him to stop playing. Immediately all the Indians lay down to sleep. Wahbunou’s mother forgot to pack Jim’s drum away, so he put it carefully down on the ground between him and Wahbunou. Then he lay down and pretended to sleep. He listened for a long time until he felt sure everyone was asleep; then he took his drum and began to crawl slowly from his place on the ground. But Wahbunou was not asleep. At Jim’s first move he whispered, “Jim, are you leaving?” Jim turned and patted Wahbunou’s shoulder. “Shh! Yes. Thanks, Wahbunou. I’ll never forget you.”