CHAPTER XIX
A SPLENDID VICTORY
THE Sioux watched the Pawnees with breathless interest. The intense emotion of the speakers, and the apparent excitement of the audience, soon convinced them that the entire tribe was on the verge of an hysterical outburst. The anxious scouts at the edge of the camp had little doubt that the fate of the unfortunate captives was the topic of discussion. The prisoners themselves were nowhere in sight. However, White Otter pointed out the lodge into which they had been taken the previous night. The Sioux looked upon it with longing eyes. The same thought was in the mind of each. Still, they knew that it would be impossible to reach the shelter without being seen. It was located some distance from the outside of the village, and the brilliant light from the fires illuminated every inch of the ground about it. They realized, therefore, that for the moment, at least, there was nothing to do but to wait.
"I know that man," whispered Little Raven, as a new speaker rose to address the people. "Yes, he is Yellow Cloud. He is the great war chief of all the Pawnees."
The Sioux saw a tall, broad-shouldered warrior of wonderful physique. He wore a trailing head-dress of eagle plumes, and carried a beautiful robe of the white buffalo. His appearance and manner marked him as a man of great distinction. As he began to talk, the Pawnees listened with an eager attention that promised ready obedience to his commands. The Sioux regretted that they were not nearer to him, for Little Raven had been a prisoner of the Pawnees, and was familiar with their dialect. They watched the chief with great anxiety, hoping to gain a clew to his thoughts.
When Yellow Cloud finally ended his harangue, the Sioux saw that the people had been greatly impressed. They began to talk earnestly among themselves, and it seemed as if most of them endorsed the ideas of their chief. Then several other warriors spoke, and as the last rose to his feet, Little Raven seized White Otter's arm with much agitation.
"That man is Standing Elk; he is a great medicine-man!" he whispered, excitedly. "Yes, I knew him when I was a prisoner in the village of the great chief, Two Moons. But Two Moons was killed by our brothers, the brave Cheyennes. Now I believe that Standing Elk is a great chief. I will tell you that his people will listen to his words. His heart is black against the Dacotahs. I believe he will ask the Pawnees to kill our people."
"Perhaps they will not kill a great medicine-man like Yellow Horse," White Otter said, hopefully.
The idea had sustained him ever since he had learned of the plight of his tribesmen. He knew that even the most bitter enemies often spared the lives of these powerful men of mystery, and he had hoped that Yellow Horse's great gifts of magic would protect Wolf Robe as well as himself. Now he began to doubt. Having learned the identity of the warrior who was apparently working himself into a perfect frenzy of excitement, the young Ogalala dreaded the effect on his audience. It was soon apparent that his words were changing the opinions of many of the warriors. As he proceeded with his wild harangue, a number of the younger men began to call out in approval of his talk. Their enthusiasm quickly spread to their companions, and it was not long before the vengeful medicine-man had injected his own bitterness and hate into the hearts of his listeners. The Pawnees were fast losing control of themselves. It was evident that Standing Elk was deliberately rousing them into a fury.
"That man will make it bad for our people," whispered White Otter, as his eyes flashed dangerously.