RED DOG'S STRATAGEM
Shortly after the Sioux had disappeared, the Cheyennes discovered what appeared to be smoke, far away to the westward. They watched for some time before they became convinced that it was not a cloud. Then as they finally agreed that it was smoke, they felt sure that it was a signal from the Kiowa war party.
"It is bad," said Red Dog. "I believe the Kiowas are waiting for more warriors. They are sending up that smoke to tell them where they are."
"It must be so," declared Painted Weasel, a famous scout.
The possibility filled the Cheyennes with gloom. Already outnumbered by the war party in the distant ravine, they realized that there was little chance of holding the village against a still stronger force of foes. For a moment they gave way to despair. Some of them proposed to abandon the camp, and seek safety in flight.
"No, no, that would be useless," Red Dog cried fiercely. "Look about you. Do you see the old people and the women and children? Well, my brothers, think about it. They cannot travel fast. If we try to get away, the Kiowas will soon come up with us. Then most of us will be killed. We must stay here and fight. We are Cheyennes. Does a Cheyenne throw away his women and children to save himself? I am your chief. I will stay here and fight back the Kiowas until our brothers come to help us."
The words of Red Dog roused the fighting blood of his warriors. They replied with a ringing war cry that echoed threateningly across the plain, and carried a bold challenge to their foes. The courage of their chief gave them confidence, and they were eager to meet the Kiowas. Some of the old men ran for the war drums. Then the warriors gathered in the center of the camp, and began to dance and sing their boastful war songs.
"It is good," cried Red Dog. "I see that you are ready to fight. If the Kiowas come to the village we will kill them and take away their ponies."
Once begun, the war ceremonies were continued far into the day. Then they were suddenly brought to an end by the appearance of one of the scouts who was racing toward the camp. When he came nearer they recognized him as White Horse, a noted warrior. As he rode his sweating pony into the village, the Cheyennes gathered eagerly about him to learn what he had seen.
"It is bad," White Horse told them. "Many more Kiowas have gone into that gully."