The glimpse was momentary, but it was clear enough for Brinton to recognise the young Indian as Wolf Ear, who he knew was fond of cigarette smoking, that being one of the habits he had acquired among civilised folk.
"I am sorry it wasn't you I shot from his horse in mid-stream," was the resentful reflection of him who had once been a devoted friend of the Ogalalla.
The cigarette being lighted, the buck vaulted upon the back of his pony, where he could be seen by the fiery tip in the dense darkness.
Brinton wondered why the group of horsemen remained where they were, instead of riding away. That, like many other actions of theirs, was incomprehensible to him.
But while he lay flat on the ground, debating what he should next do, if indeed he could do anything, he was frightened by the discovery that gradually but surely the figures of the Indians and their ponies were coming into view.
The explanation was that the sky, which had been overcast all day and a portion of the night, was slightly clearing—not to any extent, but enough to increase the peril of his own situation to an alarming extent.
"It won't do to stay here any longer; I wonder why they have not discovered me before; they will do it in five minutes, if I remain."
His position was an awkward one for the movement necessary, but he had no choice, and he began stealthily working himself to the edge of the bank, with the purpose of letting himself noiselessly over to where he would be concealed from sight. All might have gone well had he not forgotten a simple thing. The edge of the bank gave under his weight, and he slid downwards, as if taking a plunge into the river, with the dirt rattling after him.
The noise, slight as it was, was certain to attract the notice of the Indians, a few feet away. Brinton knew this, and he did not wait to see the results. With the nimbleness of a cat, he turned at the moment of striking the bottom of the low cliff, and bounding to his feet, ran along below the bank at his utmost speed.
Had he continued his flight, quick disaster must have followed; but with a thoughtfulness and self-possession hardly to be expected, he abruptly stopped after running a hundred feet and again threw himself on his face, at the bottom of the bank, and as close to its base as it was possible for him to lie.