“You don’t?”
“No; I think his familiarity with this country will afford him an avenue of escape.”
Glyndon shook his head in his dubious manner.
“Not if Multuomah and I get after him,” he rejoined. “I think we can make things unpleasant for the Smohollers, eh, chief?”
“If my warriors will second me, he can not escape us,” answered Multuomah; “but I prefer that he should give up Oneotah and depart in peace. I have no other cause of quarrel against him.”
“But if he will not?” said Blaikie. “If he still persists in obstructing our survey?”
“The Nez Perces will guard your advance, and if they are attacked by the Prophet’s braves, they will know how to defend themselves,” replied Multuomah. “They believe that the white man has power to break the strength of the Prophet’s medicine.”
“That’s lucky, and they’ll fight all the better for it,” said Robbins. “Our survey is all right; your party guarantees that. One good turn deserves another, and so we’ll do our best to get your girl for you. Let the boys go as embassadors to Smoholler—I don’t think they run any risk—and demand the girl, and give him an intimation of what he may expect if he tries to trouble us any further.”
Lieutenant Gardiner, Blaikie, and Glyndon were of this opinion, and so the boys prepared for their return to the Prophet. Percy Vere obtained a small branch of a tree to which he affixed a white handkerchief, to serve as a flag of truce. They left the rifles in the camp, but took with them their revolvers and bowie-knives, though they did not think they would have occasion to use either. Thus prepared they left the breastwork, and walked across the open place toward the mouth of the ravine.
The surveyors, the lieutenant, the old hunter and the chief watched the boys curiously, as they walked over this rocky plateau. The sun was sinking, and its declining beams streamed ruddily through the gap in the cliffs, and shed a kind of halo around the boys as they proceeded.