Realizing that he might have been seen, White Otter looked for a place of concealment. The plain was open and bare of shelter, however, and there was no chance to hide. He determined to remain where he was, hoping that something might appear along the crest of the ridge.
It was soon evident that whatever was raising the dust was moving rapidly toward the north. White Otter felt quite certain that it was a herd of buffaloes in wild flight. Perhaps they were pursued by wolves, which were always loitering about the herds at that season to prey upon the young calves. It was just as probable, however, that a hunting party of foes had invaded the great Sioux hunting grounds.
"Well, I will wait here and see what comes of it," declared White Otter.
The dust cloud finally faded out some distance farther toward the north. White Otter was perplexed. He was undecided as to what he should do. The ridge extended like a barrier directly across his path, and it would be necessary to cross it to continue his journey. Still, he realized the peril of venturing within bow range.
White Otter waited a long time, and then finally turned his pony toward the south, and rode along parallel with the ridge. Having seen nothing which would lead him to suspect enemies, he planned to cross the ridge some distance to the southward. When he believed that he had gone a sufficient distance, he turned and approached the ridge. As he finally came within arrow range he stopped and searched the top of the slope for signs of foes. Although he failed to discover them, he realized that they might be lying just below the top of the ridge, in which event it would be impossible to see them. He rode forward with great caution, therefore, and was prepared to flee at the first hint of danger.
White Otter had actually begun to climb the slope when he was startled by a chorus of whoops and yells, and turning toward the left he saw a company of horsemen racing toward him. He lashed his pony up the slope and crossed the ridge. Then he rode furiously toward the west.
The maneuver completely fooled the Pawnees who had expected him to turn down the ridge and flee in the opposite direction. Their confusion gave White Otter a chance to get beyond arrow range before they dashed over the ridge in pursuit of him. He looked over his shoulder and counted eight riders whom he instantly recognized as Pawnees. His eyes flashed dangerously as he thought of those hated foes.
White Otter was holding his lead over his pursuers when he suddenly saw a solitary rider gallop from a little grove of trees, and race diagonally across the plain in an effort to intercept him. The Pawnee was mounted on a particularly fast little buckskin, and White Otter realized that unless he swerved from his course he would soon come within easy bow range of him. The Sioux however, refused to give way.
"I will kill that man," White Otter declared, grimly.
The other Pawnees had failed to come within bowshot, and although they were yelling fiercely, and forcing their ponies to the limit, White Otter gave little attention to them. His eyes were fixed on the daring rider who was racing recklessly across the plain in an attempt to get in front of him. The Pawnee seemed equally intent upon watching White Otter. The ponies appeared well matched, and the race was a thrilling one.