"Well, my brother, if there is no fire it will be hard to see who they are," Sun Bird told him.
"Perhaps my ears will tell me that," replied White Otter. "I know the words of the Pawnees. I know the words of the Crows. I know the words of the Kiowas. I will get close to that place and listen sharp."
"White Otter, I believe it would be foolish to go over there," said Sun Bird. "If you will listen to my words, I will tell you something better."
"You are my brother, and you are a chief of the brave Minneconjoux—I will listen to your words," agreed White Otter.
"It is good," declared Sun Bird. "Now I will tell you how I feel about this thing. We are in a good place. Those people cannot see us when it gets light. You say perhaps those people are Pawnees. It may be true. You say perhaps they are going to fight your people. It may be true. You say it makes you feel bad. You say we must find out about it. It is true. I will tell you the best thing to do. We will stay here until the light comes. Then we will watch close. If any one comes away from that place we will see them. If they travel toward the lodges of your people they will go by this place. Then we will follow them. We will get close and find out who they are. If they go the other way, we will let them ride away. My brother, I believe it is the best thing to do."
White Otter kept silent. He was studying the plan of Sun Bird. The latter waited patiently for him to reply. It was some time before White Otter spoke.
"Sun Bird, I have listened to your words, but I will not do as you propose," he said, finally. "You say if those people are going to the lodges of my people they will pass this place. Perhaps they have passed by here in the darkness. If we wait here until the light comes perhaps it will be too late to help my people. My brother, I must find out about it. I am going to do what I told you about."
"Well, you are the leader," Sun Bird told him. "I will not talk any more against it."
"It is good," replied White Otter.
A few moments afterward he disappeared into the night. Choosing a star to guide him in the proper direction, he loped across the plain as easily and as silently as Ma-ya-sh, the wolf. Aware that there was a possibility of blundering into his foes, he stopped many times to listen. The great plain was steeped in silence. He believed that the strangers had remained in the grove. The thought somewhat relieved his anxiety for his people. He had little fear for himself. Having passed through many thrilling adventures, he had learned to look upon danger and death with the stolid indifference of the seasoned warrior.