"We must be cautious when we come near the village," High Eagle warned him. "Our people will be watching. When they hear us perhaps they will take us for Pawnees. Perhaps they will send their arrows through us."
"Yes, what you say is so," agreed White Otter. "But we will stop before we go near enough to be killed. Then I will make the sound of the little gray fox. When our people hear that they will feel good again."
When they finally came close to the camp, they stopped, and White Otter imitated the bark of the prairie fox. In a few moments an answer sounded from the border of the village. Then he repeated the signal three times, and, when he received a reply, he and his companions rode boldly toward the lodges. As they showed themselves in the glow from the fires, they were immediately challenged by the suspicious guards at the edge of the camp.
"Ho, my brothers, we are Dacotahs; we have come to tell you something good," cried White Otter.
"It is White Otter!" cried the delighted Ogalalas. "He has brought Curly Horse and his people to help us."
When the three scouts rode their exhausted ponies into the village, a few moments later, they saw all the evidences of a tragedy. It was apparent that the Sioux loss had been even greater than they had anticipated. White Otter and High Eagle recognized many loyal friends among the dead and wounded, and as they gazed upon them they were filled with a wild desire for vengeance. Then White Otter turned to search the great throng of people who were crowding eagerly about them. When he failed to discover his grandfather, a great fear entered his heart. He had grave doubts of Wolf Robe's safety, and he feared to ask for him. Before he could frame the difficult inquiry, however, he was startled by a series of piercing screams from one of the lodges. The next moment Singing Wind, his grandmother, rushed toward him, frantically waving her arms, and crying out hysterically.
"My grandfather has been killed," White Otter told High Eagle.
As Singing Wind reached his side she fell to the ground, prostrated by her grief. White Otter and High Eagle raised her with great tenderness, and attempted to comfort her. The loyal old woman was beside herself, and it was some moments before she could speak. Then she threw her arms about White Otter and sobbed out her story.
"Ah, my son, I must tell you something bad," she cried. "Your grandfather, the great chief, Wolf Robe, has been taken away by the Pawnees. Yes, there is a great hole in my heart. Perhaps they have killed him. You must find out about it. If he is dead, then I will die. You have done some great things, my son. Now I will ask you to do the greatest thing of all. Yes, I will ask you to go and find out about your grandfather. If the Pawnees have killed him, then you must come back and tell me. But if he is alive in that camp, then you must take him away. You are the son of Standing Buffalo—I believe you can do this thing. That is all I can say."
As Singing Wind ended her frantic appeal she tottered backward and would have collapsed had not White Otter thrown his arm about her. The Ogalalas watched in silence as the striking young warrior and the frail old woman looked searchingly into each other's eyes. Then, when Singing Wind finally recovered her strength, White Otter made his reply.