The lieutenant raised his hand and made a signal to halt and go back, just as a boy who is playing “I spy” does to a comrade whose interest it is to keep out of sight. The Indian stopped and made other signs which Parker did not understand; but the Indian understood the signal to halt, however, and when it was repeated with more energy than usual, he turned his horse and rode back to the top of the swell. Parker glanced at his men, and was gratified to see that every one had put away his pipe and held his carbine in readiness for use. It certainly looked as though there was going to be a fight. He thought of all the instructions the colonel had given him, and was ready to carry them out. His voice was as steady as usual when he inquired of his guide:
“What did that Indian mean when he made those other signals?”
“He simply wanted to communicate—that was all,” replied Carl.
“And what do you suppose would have been the result if I had spoken to him?” continued Parker.
“He would have come up and held some conversation with you through an interpreter, and in the meantime his band would have slipped over and been all ready to carry out his programme, whatever it is.”
“Then you really think he has got some other Indians waiting for him on the other side of the hill?” said Parker.
“Certainly I do. They would have come over here one by one, so as not to arouse your suspicions, and when there were enough of them here to overpower us the chief would have given his war-whoop, and in less than two minutes we would all have been dead men.”
“But some of them would have done their last shooting,” said Parker, his eyes flashing while he gripped his Winchester with a firmer hold. “My soldiers were all ready.”
“Of course; that was to be expected. But you don’t suppose that the loss of a few warriors would whip his whole band?”
“Well, I did perfectly right in telling that chief that I did not want to speak to him,” said Parker, drawing a long breath of relief. “Do you think he will pitch into us when we get to the top of the hill?”