Wyatt. The
party was about thirty in number, and it included the most daring spirits
among them. They were going against the wishes of the aged Gray Beaver,
who foresaw only disaster from such a desecration; but Yellow Panther
favored the venture, and Braxton Wyatt had urged it for a long time.

Wyatt was no coward, and he did not believe in spirits. They had seen
tracks, white tracks, in the snow, and the sight confirmed him in his
suspicion that those whom he hated were hiding on the island in the lake.
He burned for revenge upon Henry Ware and his friends, but he had to fight
all the influence of Gray Beaver and the power of Indian superstition. He
was about to despair of moving them when they saw the tracks--tracks that
led almost to the edge of the water. He considered this proof of his
theory, and he urged it incessantly. He called attention to the encounter
in the woods near the lake, and the later affair with the belt bearers.
The latter had particular weight, as enough messengers had now passed
between the Miamis and Shawnees to show that both had been the victims of
a clever and daring trick. Wyatt, therefore, was reinstated in the good
graces of the savages, and his words had meaning to them. At last, with
the aid of Yellow Panther and the more daring spirits among the younger
warriors, he prevailed, and the expedition started.

It was a really formidable war party, thirty warriors or more, all well
armed with rifles and ammunition bought from the Canadian traders, all
hideous with paint, and all skilled in the lore and devices of the
wilderness. Braxton Wyatt had talked to them so much, he had told them so
often that their superstitions were mere moonshine, that they began to
believe, and they thrilled, moreover, with the hope of securing white
scalps.

The cold was intense, and the frozen surface of the snow was very smooth;
but the warriors, in thick moccasins of buffalo hide, with the hair
underneath, sped with sure step toward the lake. As Henry and Ross had
done, they kept in the thickest of the forest, passing from tree trunk to
tree trunk, because the Indian loves a surprise, an easy victory being
the greatest of triumphs to him. It was such that they expected now, and
the blood of every one of them was inflamed by the logic and eloquence of
Braxton Wyatt and Yellow Panther.

They reached the shores of the lake when the twilight had merged into the
night and the darkness was deep. They had foresee