“Let my brothers wait till Mul-tal-la comes back to them.”
With that he turned off with the Shoshones, who headed straight for the camp of the Cas-ta-ba-nas, the party straggling forward without any regard to order. George and Victor remained seated on their horses, watching the singular scene.
The glow of the fire, added to the moonlight, made everything more or less visible. The arrival of the visitors naturally caused a stir. The Cas-ta-ba-nas who were seated rose to their feet, and immediately an earnest conversation began. Hosts and guests could be seen gesticulating vigorously, and across the intervening space came the odd sounds made by their peculiar manner of speaking. Speculating and wondering, the boys watched and awaited the issue of the curious incident. They looked for a sudden outbreak, though hopeful it would be averted. If the Shoshones meant to play false, their treachery would speedily appear. The conclusion could not be delayed longer than a few minutes.
While the brothers were intently studying the picture the Blackfoot was seen to withdraw from the group and walk hurriedly back to where he had left his friends. Shoshones and Cas-ta-ba-nas stayed where they were, but gazed after him and at the forms of the boys and horses not far off.
“We shall now know what’s up,” said George Shelton.
“Whatever it is, the decision has been made.”
Mul-tal-la came up, cool and collected, but clearly agitated.
“It is as my brothers hoped,” were his words. “Black Elk did as his warriors said; the Cas-ta-ba-nas have been told that he will slay anyone of them that dares hurt Mul-tal-la or the palefaces with him. They dare not disobey the words of the great Black Elk. No harm shall come from them to us. Let us go on.”
And so it proved that chivalry is not dead even among the American Indians.