The warrior carried in his right hand a bow about one half the length of the old English long bow, made of the tough bois d'arc or osage orange, strengthened and reinforced with sinews of deer wrapped firmly about it. The cord of the bow was also of deer sinews. Over his shoulder was a quiver filled with arrows about twenty inches in length, feathered and with barbs of triangular iron. On his left arm he carried a circular shield made of two thicknesses of hard, undressed buffalo hide, separated by an inch of space tightly packed with hair. His shield was fastened by two bands in such a manner that it would not interfere with the use of the arm, and it was so hard that it would often turn a rifle shot. Hanging at his horse's mane was a war club which had been made by bending a withe around a hard stone, weighing about two pounds, and with a groove in it. Its handle of wood, about fourteen inches in length, was bound with buffalo hide.
Apparently the warrior carried no firearms, using only the ancient weapons of his tribe. His horse was a magnificent coal black, far larger than the ordinary Indian pony, and he stood with his neck arched as if he were proud of his owner. The Indian's gaze and manner were haughty and defiant. It was obvious to every one, and a low murmur ran among the men of the train. Phil recognized the warrior instantly. It was Black Panther, no longer the sodden haunter of the levee in the white man's town, but a great chief on his native plains. Phil looked at Middleton, who nodded.
"Yes," he said, "I know him. He has, of course, been watching us, and knows every mile of our march. Unless I am greatly mistaken, Phil, this is the third warning."
Woodfall had ridden up by the side of Middleton, and the latter said that Black Panther would probably speak with them.
"Then," said Woodfall, "you and I, Mr. Middleton, will ride forward and see what he has to say."
Phil begged to be allowed to go, too, and they consented. Woodfall hoisted a piece of white cloth on the end of his rifle, and the Indian raised his shield in a gesture of understanding. Then the three rode forward. The whole of the wagon train was massed on the swell behind them, and scores of eyes were watching intently for every detail that might happen.
The Indian, after the affirmative gesture with the shield, did not move, but he sat erect and motionless like a great bronze equestrian statue. The blazing sunlight beat down upon horse and man. Every line of the warrior's face was revealed--the high cheek-bone, the massive jaw, the pointed chin, and, as Phil drew nearer, the expression of hate and defiance that was the dominant note of his countenance. Truly, this Black Panther of the slums had undergone a prairie change, a wonderful change that was complete.
Woodfall, Middleton, and Phil rode slowly up the second swell, and approached the chief, for such they could not doubt now that he was. Still he did not move, but sat upon his horse, gravely regarding them. Phil was quite sure that Black Panther remembered him, but he was not sure that he would admit it.
"You wish to speak with us," said Middleton, who in such a moment naturally assumed the position of leader.
"To give you a message," replied Black Panther in good English. "I have given you two messages already, and this is the third."