"Tell me first," said One Eye, in the Sioux dialect, "where are the pale-faces?"
"Gone—water—water!" gasped the wretch.
"Where?" sternly cried Young. "Tell me all or you shall perish for want of a drop of water. Tell me and you shall have all you wish."
"Gone to—over there," was the husky reply.
"To Wilson's?" asked Young, in English.
"Yes—young brave tell 'um—they go—run 'way—"
One Eye sprung to his feet with a peculiar cry. He had learned all he wished.
"Water—water!" gasped the sufferer, but his plea was unheeded.
He could be of no further service to them. He might die a dog's death, as he had lived a dog's life. What cared they?
"Come—there is no time to lose. We must hasten or they will escape us yet. Follow me, and their scalps shall hang at our girdles before another sun!" yelled One Eye, as he dashed away from the burning cabin, closely followed by the savages, leaving the dying wretch as he lay, to gasp out his feeble remnant of life in fruitless appeals for water!