"Ugh!" grunted Pipe, who was glad to see his renegade friend.
Half King evinced the same feeling.
"Hullo," was Simon Girty's greeting.
"'Pears I'm on time fer the picnic," said Jim Girty, with his ghastly leer.
Bill Elliott closed the flaps, after giving orders to the guard to prevent any Indians from loitering near the teepee.
"Listen," said Simon Girty, speaking low in the Delaware language. "The time is ripe. We have come here to break forever the influence of the white man's religion. Our councils have been held; we shall drive away the missionaries, and burn the Village of Peace."
He paused, leaning forward in his exceeding earnestness, with his bronzed face lined by swelling veins, his whole person made rigid by the murderous thought.
The he hissed between his teeth: "What shall we do with these Christian Indians?"
Pipe raised his war-club, struck it upon the ground; then handed it to Half King.
Half King took the club and repeated the action.
Both chiefs favored the death penalty.
"Feed 'em to ther buzzards," croaked Jim Girty.
Simon Girty knitted his brow in thought. The question of what to do with the converted Indians had long perplexed him.
"No," said he; "let us drive away the missionaries, burn the village, and take the Indians back to camp. We'll keep them there; they'll soon forget."
"Pipe does not want them," declared the Delaware.
"Christian Indians shall never sit round Half King's fire," cried the Huron.
Simon Girty knew the crisis had come; that but few moments were left him to decide as to the disposition of the Christians; and he thought seriously.
Certainly he did not want the Christians murdered. However cruel his life, and great his misdeeds, he was still a man. If possible, he desired to burn the village and ruin the religious influence, but without shedding blood. Yet, with all his power, he was handicapped, and that by the very chiefs most nearly under his control. He could not subdue this growing Christian influence without the help of Pipe and Half King. To these savages a thing was either right or wrong. He had sown the seed of unrest and jealousy in the savage breasts, and the fruit was the decree of death. As far as these Indians were concerned, this decision was unalterable.
On the other hand, if he did not spread ruin over the Village of Peace, the missionaries would soon get such a grasp on the tribes that their hold would never be broken. He could not allow that, even if he was forced to sacrifice the missionaries along with their converts, for he saw in the growth of this religion his own downfall. The border must be hostile to the whites, or it could no longer be his home. To be sure, he had aided the British in the Revolution, and could find a refuge among them; but this did not suit him.
He became an outcast because of failure to win the military promotion which he had so much coveted. He had failed among his own people. He had won a great position in an alien race, and he loved his power. To sway men--Indians, if not others--to his will; to avenge himself for the fancied wrong done him; to be great, had been his unrelenting purpose.
He knew he must sacrifice the Christians, or eventually lose his own power. He had no false ideas about the converted Indians. He knew they were innocent; that they were a thousand times better off than the pagan Indians; that they had never harmed him, nor would they ever do so; but if he allowed them to spread their religion there was an end of Simon Girty.