Arrived there, he tied the goods in a small piece of deerskin, and gave the bundle to the dog, with the injunction, "Take it yonder, pup." Crusoe took it up at once, darted off at full speed with the bundle in his mouth, down the shore of the lake towards the ford of the river, and was soon lost to view.

In this way, little by little, the goods were conveyed by the faithful dog to the willow bluff and left there, while the stuffed pack still remained in safe keeping in the chiefs tent.
Joe did not at first like the idea of thus sneaking off from the camp, and more than once made strong efforts to induce San-it-sa-rish to let him go; but even that chief's countenance was not so favourable as it had been.

It was clear that he could not make up his mind to let slip so good a chance of obtaining guns, powder and shot, horses, and goods, without any trouble; so Joe made up his mind to give them the slip at once.
A dark night was chosen for the attempt, and the Indian woman went off with the horses to the place where firewood for the camp was usually cut.

Unfortunately, the suspicion of that wily savage Mahtawa had been awakened, and he stuck close to the hunters all day--not knowing what was going on, but feeling convinced that something was brewing which he resolved to watch, without mentioning his suspicions to any one.
"I think that villain's away at last," whispered Joe to his comrades.
"It's time to go, lads; the moon won't be up for an hour.

Come along." "Have ye got the big powder-horn, Joe ?" "Ay, ay, all right." "Stop! stop! my knife, my couteau.