Braxton Wyatt stepped forward again, produced a pipe with a beautifully carved horn handle, and filled it carefully with tobacco, which he lighted with a coal from the fire.  Then he handed it to Red Eagle, who was the older of the chiefs, and Red Eagle gravely took a half dozen whiffs.  Then he passed it to Yellow Panther, who did likewise, and the chief in his turn handed it to the Spanish commander.  Alvarez smoked gravely for a half minute, and then Braxton Wyatt took the pipe.

“Now for the big confab,” whispered Sol.

Fine buffalo robes were spread before the fire, and the three leaders and Braxton Wyatt sat upon them.  All others kept at a respectful distance.  The four began to talk and, although only an occasional word reached the watching three, they knew too well their subject of converse.  It was the great conspiracy to draw the Spanish from Louisiana into an attack upon the infant settlements, upon the ground that they were or would be interlopers.  It was cannon that the assailants needed to smash the block houses, and cannon in abundance could be brought on the great rivers from New Orleans.

The watchers presently saw Braxton Wyatt take a small parcel from the inside of his deerskin hunting shirt.  He unfolded the parcel and the watchers could see that it consisted of large pieces of the finest, tanned deerskin.

“Maps,” said Paul intuitively.  “That scoundrel, Braxton Wyatt, has made them for the aid of the Spanish, and to disclose all our weak points!”

The fire blazed higher and they could see that on the white deerskin were drawn lines in colored pigment, and the rest they guessed.  It was true enough.  Braxton Wyatt, no mean draughtsman, had drawn, with the most elaborate care and attention to detail, maps on a large scale of every one of the infant settlements.  There was nothing about Wareville in particular that he did not show, and he also designated all the rivers, hills, and valleys as far as they were known.  With such aid a Spanish force, backed by cannon and the warriors, must triumph over every post in Kentucky.

“I never thought of this,” whispered Paul.  Henry merely pressed his shoulder again to indicate that they were ready to deal with it, if man could.

The three watchers remained there more than an hour, and Alvarez, Wyatt, and the chiefs still discussed the maps with every appearance of agreement, bending their heads over them, and now and then disclosing eager faces, as they lifted them in the firelight.

“Alvarez wants to help them,” whispered Paul.  “He hates us, and, if he can, he will commit the Governor of Louisiana to the Indian alliance.”

“Beyond a doubt,” replied Henry, “and so it’s not worth while for us to wait here any longer.”

They slid away in the dark and returned to their own camp.  There Long Jim and Tom Ross were placidly awaiting them, and they were not at all surprised at the news.  Then the five held another of their conferences.