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“How long do you expect to stay here, Deerfoot?” inquired Joseph after several moments of silence. The Indian was cleaning the last fish and he made no reply until he had finished. The task did not consume much time, however, for the Pottowattomie was an expert in this art. He laid the fish upon a flat stone with the others, wiped his knife clean and then answered Joseph’s question.

“We leave tonight,” he said.

“Where are we going?” demanded Joseph and Robert in one breath.

“Dixon’s Ferry.”

“Dixon’s Ferry!” exclaimed Joseph. “Why, that’s a long distance from here.”

“I know,” agreed Deerfoot. “We go there. Soldiers there, too.”

“Is that so?” cried Joseph in surprise. “You mean soldiers sent against Black Hawk?”

“Yes,” said the Indian. “Governor Reynolds send soldiers.”

“How do you know all this?” inquired Robert doubtfully.

“Me know,” replied Deerfoot shortly. He did not like to have his statements questioned, and immediately lapsed into silence. He ignored any further remarks on the subject made by either of the brothers, and busied himself in his preparations for the meal.