"My brothers will need to hurry," said Raven. "We move when the moon is
high."
"Good!" replied White Cloud. "Go, quick." He waved his hand toward the
dark. "Come." He brought it back again. "Heap quick." Without further
word they vanished, silent as the shadows that swallowed them up.
"Now, then, Cameron, we have big business on foot. Up and give us a
hand. Little Thunder, take the bunch down the trail a couple of miles
and come back."
Selecting one of the pack ponies, he tied it to a pine tree and the
others he hurried off with Little Thunder down the trail.
"Going to do some trading, are you?" enquired Cameron.
"Yes, if the price is right, though I'm not too keen," replied Raven,
throwing himself down beside the fire.
"What are you after? Furs?"
"Yes, furs mostly. Anything they have to offer."
"What do you give in exchange?"
Raven threw him a sharp glance, but Cameron's face was turned toward the
fire.
"Oh, various articles. Wearing apparel, tobacco, finery. Molasses too.
They are very fond of molasses."
"Molasses?" echoed Cameron, with a touch of scorn. "It was not molasses
they had to-night. Why did you give them whiskey?" he asked boldly.
Raven started. His eyes narrowed to two piercing points.
"Why? That's my business, my friend. I keep a flask to treat my guests
occasionally.
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