"Them words sound mighty big, Paul.

Would you mind tellin' us what they mean ?" "They mean, Jim," put in Shif'less Sol, "that you won't be what you ought to be, an' that you won't, all the time." "That's a good enough explanation," laughed Paul.
"Whatever is the reason," said Tom Ross, who used words as rarely as if they were precious jewels, "the tribes are comin' together to destroy the white settlements.

Braxton is givin' them all kinds uv useful information, an' we've got to hinder these doin's, ef we kin." The others agreed once more, and talked further of the new league.

They did not go into much detail about their adventures while spying on the villages, rather looking now to the future.
"I told you, Paul, we ought to a-put a knife in that Braxton Wyatt when we had the chance," growled Shif'less Sol.
"I couldn't do it, Sol," replied Paul.
Later they held a conference beside a bed of coals that threw out no smoke, and Paul listened with absorbed attention while Henry stated the case fully.
"The Shawnees were somewhat daunted by their repulse at Wareville last year," he said, "but they hope yet to crush the white settlement before we grow too strong.

They are seeking to draw the Miamis, Wyandottes, and all the other tribes up here into a league for that purpose, and they want to have it formed and strike while our people are not expecting it.
Wareville, owing to her victory of last year, thinks she's safe, and it is not the custom of Indians to raid much in winter.