“He’s a splendid-looking fellow,” commented the girl, gazing withal at the gigantic warrior who had led the last and most persistent charge upon the camp.
“Oh, yes; I know him well. Many’s the hour I’ve spent in his lodge making him talk. Now, look again. The middle one is Mountain Cat—the trappers call him Catamount, but the other’s the real rendering of his name. He hates the whites more than any Indian on this continent, and would willingly put a bullet into me if he got the chance. He’s an Ogallalla, and a good big chief too.”
“He looks an awful savage,” answered Yseulte, with the glass still at her eyes. “I never saw a more diabolical expression. Who is the man who has just joined them?”
“Lone Panther—a half-bred Cheyenne—a small chief in standing, but a fiend when he heads a war-party. And now I must leave you for a little, and go and hear what they have to say. It may interest you to watch the progress of our conference through the glass.”
“That it will. But, oh, Mr Vipan, do try and persuade them to leave us in peace. You know them so well, I am sure you can.”
“I’ll try, anyhow, if only for your sake,” he answered, with a queer smile.
The three chiefs named had halted their band, and, attended by a couple of warriors displaying dingy white rags on their lance-points, were cantering down towards the corral. Arrived within two hundred yards, they halted. There went forth to meet them Vipan, Major Winthrop, and one of the latter’s cowboys, who rejoiced in the name of Sam Sharp; also two of the teamsters to hold their horses.
When within a hundred yards of each other, both parties dismounted. The three chiefs, giving their horses to their attendants, advanced with slow and stately gait to where the three white men awaited them.
“Do we meet in peace, or do we meet in war?” began Vipan, as both parties having surveyed each other for a few moments the Indians showed no inclination to break the silence. No answer followed this straight question. Then Lone Panther, breaking into a broad grin, said:
“Injun brother Goddam hungry. White Colonel gib him heap ‘chuck.’” (Food.)