The young savage took the letter out of his bosom and gave it to Cyrus, who took it and stowed it away in one of his pockets.
"Now that letter can answer one more purpose," said Winged Arrow. "Any man who is captured after that will lose his life."
"How do you make that out?"
"I promised my father," began Winged Arrow.
"By the way, who is your father?" said Cyrus. "He must be a man of considerable standing in the tribe or else you would not be permitted to meet a man between the lines, or to hold a chat with me now."
"He is a Medicine Man," replied the young Indian. "If there is a fight here you will see him in the foremost ranks. He has a medicine which he believes will render him impervious to the white man's bullets. You do not believe in such things, do you?"
"Yes, I do," said Cyrus, earnestly. "One of your people gave me such medicine, which afterward saved my life."
"What was it?" asked Winged Arrow, becoming interested.
"A handful of sage brush wrapped up in a piece of buckskin. I don't see why you fellows can't have some medicine of that kind as well as some others. What did you promise your father?"
"That I would join him and help fight for the lands which the whites are trying to cheat us out of, provided he would give me the choice of saving two white men who might chance to fall into our hands. I had an eye on that black horse which that Lieutenant rides—What did you say his name was?"