“What white boys mean to do?” harshly demanded Black Feather. “No can run away.”
“Heap shoot um!” howled Blue Wolf, who seemed eager to slaughter the captives. “Then no can run away.”
“Hold on!” ordered Browning, with a calm wave of his hand. “We want to parley.”
“Want to pow-wow?” asked Black Feather.
“That’s it.”
“No pow-wow with white boys. White boys Injuns’ prisoners. No pow-wow with prisoners.”
“No!” shouted Blue Wolf. “Shoot um! shoot um!”
“Land ob massy!” gurgled Toots. “Dey am gwan teh shoot!”
“Black Feather,” said Browning, with assumed assurance and dignity, “it will not be a healthy thing for your men to shoot us.”
“How? how?”