The Arapaho warriors, instead of scattering about the camp, to gratify their curiosity, and to pick up such loose available articles as they could lay their hands on, as was the custom of Indians on the plains at friendly talks, had kept in a body, had maintained a stolid gravity of demeanor, and had watched every movement of their chief and of all about the camp.
It soon became evident, also, that their numbers were increasing. On a neighboring elevation, and in the timber that bordered the creek adjoining the camp, were bodies of Arapahoes, from which small squads detached themselves now and then, and sauntered leisurely toward the camp, where they mingled with those who were already there.
These circumstances did not escape the keen eyes of the Arapaho chief, who became bolder and more impudent as he noticed the arrival of his reinforcements and the near approach of the rest of his band.
“The Arapahoes are not fools,” he said, in reply to Colonel Wilder. “They make war or peace when they please, without asking the advice or assistance of the white men.”
Colonel Wilder colored with indignation. He began to perceive that this Indian meant treachery and mischief, and he was not a man who could brook an insult from a savage.
“If my red brother does not wish to make peace,” he said, “he can go as he came. The Arapaho has not done as he promised to do. He said that he would bring no more warriors than were here; but he has brought many more, and his young men are even now coming into the camp. I can not allow this.”
“The white men tell us that we have a great deal of curiosity,” replied Black Horse. “I suppose they speak the truth. My young men always wish to see and hear every thing.”
“They must be sent back. As many warriors as we have may remain; but the rest of the band must remove a mile from our camp.”
Black Horse was silent.