"Standing Bull, you must run off the ponies," said White Otter. "There are only a few of you. Do not try to get into the fight. Keep the ponies going. Make a big noise."
"I will do as you tell me," replied Standing Bull.
After they had gone, White Otter called Painted Weasel.
"Painted Weasel, you are a brave scout and a good war leader," White Otter told him. "I have seen you fight the Pawnees. I have seen you fight the Kiowas. I know you are brave. That is why I made you the leader of this war party. You will have the hardest fight of all. You must follow us to the Kiowa camp. You must wait close by until we have time to get into the camp. Then you must give the cry of Ma-ya-sh, the wolf, and rush ahead. Make a great noise. Try to frighten the Kiowas. Perhaps you will find us at the edge of the camp. Perhaps the Kiowas will hold us in the village. You must try to help us carry off Red Dog."
"White Otter, you are my friend," replied Painted Weasel. "I have seen you do some big things. All of these warriors know about you. They will be very brave because you are here. I will keep your words. We will fight hard to get Red Dog out of the camp."
"It is good," said White Otter. "Come, my brothers, we will go."
They mounted the ponies and rode from the ravine. Then they cantered slowly across the plain. White Otter and Painted Weasel rode in front. Sun Bird and Little Raven followed close behind them. Then came the gallant Cheyenne fighting men. They rode along in grim silence. When they had crossed the second ridge, White Otter stopped them.
"Now, my brothers, we must leave you and go ahead," he told Painted Weasel. "Hold back until we have time to reach the camp. Then go ahead. Be cautious. Now send some one with us to hold the ponies."
Two young Cheyennes rode forward to join the Sioux. Then White Otter led his little company toward the Kiowa camp. They soon saw the camp-fires flickering between the trees. When they drew nearer they suddenly heard sounds which aroused their fears. The Kiowas were shouting and beating the war drums. White Otter listened uneasily.
"It is bad," he said. "The Kiowas are dancing and singing the war songs. Red Dog is in danger. There is little time."