"Over the ridge?" replied the officer, starting up in his chair.
"Yes, sir. The second chicken he shot at went that way, or at least I thought so, and Guy followed after him."
The Adjutant said no more. Guy was a favorite with all the officers and men, and the idea of him losing his life through a disobedience of orders was distressing. He shoved a sheet of paper which he had been examining to one side, got up and walked to a window and looked out at the sentry who stood in front of the gate; and Perkins, taking this as a gentle hint that conversation was no longer desirable, put on his hat and retreated through the door.
Guy Preston was a persevering hunter, and when he reached the top of the swell he saw the chicken just settling in the grass about one hundred yards away. This time there was no mistake about it. The game "lay well to cover," and when the horse was almost ready to step upon him he arose and sought safety in flight; but he laid too long. When the shotgun spoke again he came down, and Guy had another chicken. For half an hour longer he rode about behind the swell, and finally he aroused himself and began to look around him. He was surprised to see that he had broken orders by at least a mile or more.
"Come on, Tom, and we will go back in a hurry," said he, pulling the horse's head around. "There were more chickens out here when I looked over the palisade at them, and where are they now? Get up, Tom, and we'll—"
Something happened just then to call Guy back to earth, and made him think a little more of the Sioux than he did a few moments previous. It was the sight of a solitary warrior sitting on his horse about half a mile away, and what struck Guy as something strange was, he did not seem at all afraid of being observed by anybody. Guy drew up his horse and looked at him. He could see that the Indian brave was dressed in war costume, but the distance was so great, not having a glass with him, that he could not make out whether he was a chieftain or not. The warrior seemed to be equally interested in him, for after looking at Guy for a minute or two, he put his horse in motion and came down the swell toward him.
"I don't believe I care for a closer acquaintance," said the young officer, gathering up the reins and leaning forward in the saddle, still keeping his eyes fixed upon the approaching savage. "If you want a race, come on. It is lucky for you that I haven't my Winchester in my hands. I would take that war bonnet of yours into the Fort with me as a trophy."
But somehow Guy did not put his horse into rapid motion as he had expected to do. The Indian, when he saw that Guy was getting ready to flee, stopped his own horse, and, as if to assure him that his intentions were pacific, held his rifle above his head at arm's length. This done he swung himself to the ground and laid the weapon at full length in the grass. Then he unbuckled his belt, which he also showed to Guy, and laid it beside the rifle. The next belt he took off was the one containing his knife, which he also placed with the others, and having completely disarmed himself, he placed one hand upon his horse's withers, gracefully leaped into the saddle, and once more rode toward Guy.
"I believe he wants to communicate," thought Guy, not knowing whether or not to accept his invitation. "Sioux, thy name is treachery; and that fellow's motions show me that he is as active as a cat. There," he added, seeing that the savage stopped his horse and sat regarding Guy intently, "he is waiting to see what I am going to do. I believe I will try him on."