"See, the Kiowas are running!" cried White Otter. "Come, we must take some ponies."
At that instant, however, several mounted warriors dashed forward and attacked the Sioux with great ferocity. In the desperate hand to hand fighting which followed Little Raven was dragged from his pony, and would surely have been killed but for the timely assistance of White Otter. Then the Sioux vanquished their foes, and captured three ponies. They had escaped unharmed, and as they heard the Cheyennes whooping excitedly on the plain they galloped from the timber to join them.
"Come, we have chased away the Kiowas, now we will ride around and look for ponies," said White Otter.
Once on the plain they separated, and began to look for horses. They soon learned the folly of this maneuver, however, for White Otter had barely left his companions when he was attacked by three mounted Kiowas. After a desperate running fight he finally escaped with another Kiowa pony. Similar encounters were being fought everywhere, for the crafty Kiowas had separated into small bands and were lurking in the dark to attack their foes whenever they could catch them at a disadvantage.
"It is bad," White Otter declared, as he rejoined his companions. "Yes, we must keep together. We are in great danger. The big fight is over, but perhaps we will be killed. The Kiowas are all around us. They are like the wolves, which wait in the dark to pull down the elk that goes out alone. We have helped our brothers, the Cheyennes. We have taken some ponies for ourselves. There is nothing else to do. It is foolish to wait here. Come, we will find Red Dog, and talk with him about this thing."
"It is the best thing to do," agreed Feather Dog.
Then they heard the call of the prairie wolf a short distance to the west of them, and they believed that Red Dog was summoning his warriors. Still they determined to act with great prudence, for it was possible that the Kiowas were attempting to decoy them into a trap. However, when the signal was repeated they determined to investigate. They had not gone an arrow-flight, when they heard a company of horsemen racing directly toward them. Scorning to avoid an encounter, the Sioux fitted arrows to their bows, and sent their war cry ringing through the night. The approaching riders stopped at the sound, and the Sioux heard the low murmur of their voices.
"Come, we will ride over there and fight these people," proposed Short Bear.
"No, we must wait until we know who they are," cautioned White Otter.
A moment afterward his caution was rewarded. They heard themselves addressed in their own tongue, and learned that the horsemen were their allies, the Cheyennes. The latter instantly joined them, and the Sioux saw that they were leading a number of captured ponies. The warrior who spoke the Sioux dialect assured them that the Kiowas had been decisively beaten, and were in full flight toward their village.