“Ho! ho!” exclaimed the Indians, which expression might be translated, “Hear! hear!”

“But,” continued Cameron, “we wish to have no war.  We wish to see the hatchet buried, and to see all the red men and the white men smoking the pipe of peace, and hunting like brothers.”

The “Ho—­ho—­ing” at this was very emphatic.

“Now,” resumed the trader, “the Peigans have got two prisoners—­two Pale-faces—­in their camp, and as we cannot be on good terms while our brothers are detained, we have come to ask for them, and to present some gifts to the Peigans.”

To this there was no “Ho” at all, but a prolonged silence, which was at length interrupted by a tall chief stepping forward to address the trappers.

“What the Pale-face chief has said is good,” began the Indian.  “His words are wise, and his heart is not double.  The Red-men are willing to smoke the pipe of peace, and to hunt with all men as brothers, but they cannot do it while many of their scalps are hanging in the lodges of their enemies and fringing the robes of the warriors.  The Peigans must have vengeance; then they will make peace.”

After a short pause he continued,—­

“The chief is wrong when he says there are Pale-faces in the Peigan camp.  The Peigans are not at war with the Pale-faces; neither have they seen any on their march.  The camp is open.  Let the Pale-faces look round and see that what we say is true.”

The chief waved his hand towards his warriors as he concluded, as if to say, “Search amongst them.  There are no Pale-faces there.”

Cameron now spoke to Dick in a low tone.  “They speak confidently,” he said, “and I fear greatly that your poor comrades have either been killed or conveyed away from the camp and hidden among the mountains, in which case, even though they should not be far off, it would be next to impossible to find them, especially when such a band of rascals is near, compelling us to keep together.  But I’ll try what a little tempting them with goods will do.  At any rate, we shan’t give in without a scuffle.”

It now, for the first time, flashed across Dick Varley that there was something more than he imagined in Crusoe’s restless anxiety, which had not in the least abated, and the idea of making use of him now occurred to his mind.

“I’ve a notion that I’ll settle this matter in a shorter time than you think,” he said hurriedly, “if you’ll agree to try what threatening will do.”

The trader looked grave and undecided.  “I never resort to that except as a last hope,” he answered; “but I’ve a good deal of confidence in your prudence.  What would you advise?”

Dick and the trader whispered a few minutes together, while some of the men, in order to show the Indians how perfectly unconcerned they were, and how ready for anything, took out their pipes and began to smoke.  Both parties were seated on the ground, and during this interval the Indians also held eager discussion.