"To call all the other hostiles in sight here, to take a hand in the fun of massacring us and plundering our train. Such a signal can be seen a long way and will do all that is intended. Look at it now!"
From between the two, who now rose from their stooping posture, a thin finger of vapour arose, going straight upward as if it were a shadowy arrow aimed at the clouds.
"One of the bucks is waving his blanket," observed Brinton; "he must mean something by that. I suppose he is fanning the blaze to keep it from going out."
"No; look at that thin line of smoke; don't you see something peculiar?"
"Ah! I notice it now."
The vapour showed a striking change of appearance; instead of climbing in a straight line, it now waved gracefully from side to side. It was something which never can occur unless with the help of some person.
"That is the signal," said Captain Wadsworth; "it can be seen for miles in all directions, and every Indian eye that catches sight of it will read its meaning as plainly as our soldiers do the looking-glass signals. It's a bad thing for us."
The captain was an old campaigner, and knew what he was talking about; his impressive manner was not lost upon Brinton Kingsland.
"How far are we from Wounded Knee?" he asked.
"Anywhere from a dozen to twenty miles; it depends on the course we take—that is," he added, with a shake of his head, "whether we ever take any course at all."