With a cunning that showed her Indian nature, she
suggested a plan which Joe at once saw was excellent. After Joe got
his horse, she would ride around the village, then off into the
woods, where she could leave the horse and return to say he had run
away from her. As was their custom during afternoons, they would
walk leisurely along the brook, and, trusting to the excitement
created by the councils, get away unobserved. Find the horse, if
possible rescue the prisoner, and then travel east with all speed.
Joe left the lodge at once to begin the working out of the plan.
Luck favored him at the outset, for he met Silvertip before the
council lodge. The Shawnee was leading Lance, and the dog followed
at his heels. The spirit of Mose had been broken. Poor dog, Joe
thought, he had been beaten until he was afraid to wag his tail at
his old master. Joe's resentment blazed into fury, but he kept cool
outwardly.
Right before a crowd of Indians waiting for the council to begin,
Joe planted himself in front of the Shawnee, barring his way.
"Silvertip has the paleface's horse and dog," said Joe, in a loud
voice.
The chief stared haughtily while the other Indians sauntered nearer.
They all knew how the Shawnee had got the animals, and now awaited
the outcome of the white man's challenge.
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