As for himself, he would go on his rounds to his sentinel camps, for that only a band of thirty Sioux were leaving the Bad Lands did not disturb him.
Had there been several hundred warriors moving toward the commands, or the settlements, the officer would have at once suspected an ambush, an attack, or a raid.
So the Cheyennes went on the trail, one to follow the Sioux, the other to head them off, and as soon as their situation was learned to ride with full speed for the nearest military force, and report to the commander the discovery, as one of Kit Carey's couriers.
The lieutenant had by no means given up his intention of entering the Bad Lands himself.
But it must be done by night, and in his disguise as a Sioux chief.
He would not dare be seen by day in the Bad Lands, no matter how thorough his disguise might be, for well he knew that some keen eyes would recognize him among the Indians.
So he would go to the camps of his Cheyennes, let all know of the battle of Wounded Knee Creek, and dispatch his couriers to put each command on the alert, against other Indians making for the Bad Lands, or a force of warriors riding out to make a sudden dash.
So, through the night, he held on his way, circling around the hostiles' retreat, and visiting one after the other of his posts.
The sun was well up when he reached the last position, the camp nearest to the Bernard ranch.
He had there now fourteen men, and the very pick of his Cheyenne scouts.