"Well, we will not look any more," said White Otter. "The night is passing. There is little time. Come, my brother, we will creep up close to the camp. Perhaps we will find the ponies there."
They turned toward the Kiowa village, and advanced with great caution. They stopped many times to make sure that the way was open, before they finally came within bow shot of the camp. It was located in a grove of cottonwoods that lined the banks of a stream. The lodges showed distinctly in the light from the fires, but the trees made it difficult to see into the village.
"We must go closer," declared White Otter.
At that moment a dog began to bark, and they stopped in alarm. Had the dog caught their scent? Their hopes weakened at the thought. They listened, fearfully, expecting to hear the other dogs take up the challenge. Their fears, however, were not confirmed. The dog soon became quiet. The peril had passed.
"It is good," whispered White Otter. "We will go ahead."
They moved through the darkness as silently as shadows, and approached close to the edge of the timber. Then they stopped. They were almost within leaping distance of the camp. They feared to advance nearer because of the dogs. Then White Otter suddenly thought of a way to overcome the peril.
"Come, my brother, we will climb into this big tree," he proposed. "Then we can see into the camp, and the dogs will not find us."
"It is good," said Sun Bird.
They climbed noiselessly into a large cottonwood, and went sufficiently high to obtain a splendid view of the Kiowa camp. The Kiowas were assembled about a large fire, and a warrior whom the Sioux took to be the chief was talking excitedly. In a few moments they recognized him. They had outwitted him several years before.
"Hi, I know that warrior—it is 'The Lame Wolf,'" laughed Sun Bird.