Then came an attack of the Sioux upon a wagon-train passing near their lines, and, though they had felt sure of victory, a party of cavalry had come to the rescue, saved the Government stores and the lives of the defenders of the wagons, and beaten off the Sioux.
That Not-Afraid-of-Death had killed his man the chief knew, and the similarity in the name caused them to rejoice that Lieutenant Carey, the white captain, had been killed, though they regretted that his scalp had not been secured by the redskins, who, from a distance, had seen the killing, yet dared not venture out to secure the trophy.
Who in turn had killed Not-Afraid-of-Death was a mystery which no one could solve, though the scouts reported that it was one of the officer's Indian soldiers lying in ambush.
That the cavalry had made a dash in and recovered the body of the lieutenant, was also deeply regretted by the hostiles.
In the midst of all the tumult, following into camp had come a horseman, who was known to be a pale-face in disguise.
He made no secret of the fact, gave a name which the Indians recognized as that of a friend, and asked to see Red Hatchet.
That chief was called out of the council to speak with the stranger, and regarded him with evident suspicion as he approached him.
"Red Hatchet, I am here to take back with me my sister, for I am White Hawk."
The Red Hatchet knew him now by the name the Indians had given him, for it was Herbert Bernard.
"The Snow Flower is safe with her Indian friends, and will remain. She is in the keeping of the medicine chief," was the response of the Red Hatchet.