The Cheyenne encampment was only a temporary one, the permanent village of Black Bear being located several miles south-west within the southern extremities of the Black Hills.
In anticipation of the return of Black Bear, or Blufe Brandon, preparations were made for his reception; for a mounted messenger had arrived in camp during the day and informed Allacotah and his braves that Black Bear, with a beautiful captive, and accompanied by several of his warriors, would arrive there some time during the evening.
As the time for the coming of the distinguished white chief drew near, and darkness gathered around, preparations were hastily made for his reception.
Presently a wild yell announced the expected arrival.
The name Black Bear had a significant meaning as applied to the Renegade, Blufe Brandon. Had one who had never seen him in his disguise, beheld him when he entered the lodge of Allacotah, they would have started up with sudden fear, for there was nothing natural in his appearance.
The villain was completely disguised in the skin of a black bear, even the head of the animal rested upon that of his own with its round, glaring eyes, its open mouth, red tongue and white fangs in lifelike presentation. As the nose of the animal projected over the head of the renegade, the face of the latter was completely concealed by long, straggling hairs hanging from the under jaw of the animal’s head, yet the ruffian’s eyes shone through the hairy mask like those of a serpent through the dark. His arms and legs were wrapped in the skin carefully taken from the animal’s limbs with the long claws attached, and dextrously fixed to his toes and fingers—thus perfecting his disguise so completely that he looked like a bear walking erect upon his hind feet.
In his arms the renegade carried Silvia Sanford, who a few minutes before their arrival had fainted from sheer exhaustion, long fasting and excessive heat.
A rug of skins and robes was laid near the fire, and the pale and beautiful captive placed upon it. Black Bear then turned to Silver Voice and requested her to look after the maiden’s wants, and assist the medicine-man in restoring her to consciousness.
Silver Voice advanced, and bending over the captive, gazed into her pretty, pale face. A low cry escaped her lips, and beckoning her husband she pointed down, and said: “Does it not look—”
“Never mind what the girl looks like, but hasten to restore her. That girl’s life is worth ten thousand dollars to me.”