He took advantage of that. Before an order went out to prevent him, he went through the wicket of the sliding-panel and gathered around him the four chiefs named in Cummings' ultimatum. They were more sullen, unhappy, and discouraged than ever. A few words, and he had them breathless with interest
"You must look to me alone for freedom now," he said. "There has been a great battle in the Valley of the Greasy Grass. Custer, the Long Hair, met Sitting Bull and his allies. And Custer and all his men are dead."
"Ho, hos," of joy greeted the announcement.
"Yet this is not good for you. There will be other battles. Your brothers will have no time to come and rescue you. Even your friends, the Scarred-Arms, will not help. For it is said that the Cheyenne warriors are gone to join the Sioux——"
"What of the two white squaws that were captured?" asked Shoot-at-the-Tree anxiously. "And what of us—is there danger?"
"The women are still with your people. And who knows what may happen soon? So I come to speak of your delivery. I shall get you free—you shall free my land."
"But our women," suggested Standing Buffalo, his eye straying toward a tent at the stockade's centre; "they go free, too?"
"That is impossible. But what does it matter? When you are gone, your women and children will be cared for—put upon a reservation. From there, you can steal them back."
"But how can we get free?" inquired Lame Foot. "Tell us quickly."
Matthews drew the four chiefs' heads together and whispered to them.