By-and-by the warriors returned from the other side, with the announcement that the lad had escaped, and it was useless to follow him farther.
There was no chief with the smaller company, and Red Feather told them that, since there was no chance of finding any settlers in the neighborhood, they would ride back to their own villages, which lay to the south-east.
The start was made, and the horsemen passed fully a mile in grim silence. At the end of the mile he ordered them to keep the course they were following, while he alone turned to the right in quest of Tall Bear and his band of Muddy Creek Sioux.
Left to himself, Red Feather rode a short distance to the right, and then, changing his course due north, struck the pony into a gallop.
He was now heading toward the home of the Clarendons, where he had met so many singular experiences during the earlier part of the evening. He held Dot with such care that she continued sleeping as sweetly as if lying in her own bed at home.
Never was Red Feather more cautious and skilful. Thoroughly trained in woodcraft, and an adept in all the cunning of his people, he used those gifts with success, and, though he approached close to the party of Sioux which were hurrying away from the vengeance of the white men, they never suspected the fact, and the meeting was avoided.
Within the succeeding half-hour his listening ear caught the neigh of a horse which had detected his own while the two were invisible. Instantly the chieftain brought the pony to a standstill, and peered and listened with all the acuteness he possessed.
The horsemen were coming that way, and would soon be in sight. At the very moment their figures were beginning to outline themselves he emitted a whistle, precisely the same as that used by Melville Clarendon when he signaled to him from the Upper Crossing.
"The horseman were coming that way."