Old Copperhead had already been put to the test to hold his followers from doing harm to Ankanamp as he appeared. And now he came bringing a white girl captive. Pursuit to the death would be sure to follow in the wake of that dastardly trick. The Indians all knew what that meant; but to their credit they held down their anger to listen to their chiefs. There was little time, however, for talk. A quick decision and action were demanded. Whether to flee or to make a stand and fight was the question; for they knew that the whites would soon trail them to this lair.
The old chief counseled sending the squaws and papooses on that night, leaving the warriors to guard their retreat. Nixon urged an ambush.
“They are sure to follow us,” he said, “but we kin beat ’em back and get revenge.”
“Yes, cow-men follow all right,” said Flying Arrow; “they trail Injun night and day till they git white squaw. Why you bring white squaw here?” he demanded, turning savagely on Nixon.
“That’s my business,” retorted the bully.
“Make Injuns heap trouble,” said Old Copperhead.
“Why you bring white girl here?” again demanded Flying Arrow.
“She’s my squaw.”
“You lie!” hissed the Indian.
“Well, I’m going to make her mine.”