"Where is Red Dog?" Painted Weasel asked, anxiously.
"He was with us when we were fighting to get away," said Running Buffalo. "I saw him kill two Kiowas. Then the Kiowas rushed at us, and I did not see what became of him."
"Red Dog is dead—the Kiowas have killed him," cried the disheartened Cheyennes.
"Perhaps they have carried him away," said Painted Hawk.
They rallied at the thought. If Red Dog had been captured, they resolved to rescue him. They turned toward the camp. Then they stopped in dismay. The village was ablaze. The Kiowas had set fire to the lodges. The Cheyennes heard them yelling triumphantly, far away to the southward.
"My brothers, there are few of us left," declared Running Buffalo. "It is useless to try to do anything. Come, we will ride after our people, and ask the Ogalalas to help us. Then we will bring a great war party to fight the Kiowas."
They turned toward the north with heavy hearts, and rode silently away into the darkness.