“Surrender, Old Tumult and Town. Farnesworth, or by the heavens above you, and the water beneath, you will be riddled with bullets!”
CHAPTER VIII.
THE BETROTHAL.
Although the whites were the common enemy of the Sioux and Arapaho Indians at the time of which I write, a deadly feud existed between the two tribes, growing out of a dispute as to the rightful ownership of a section of territory—abounding with game—since named the Neutral Grounds. The Sioux hunted the Arapaho and the Arapaho hunted the Sioux with the same deadly intent that each hunted the white man.
Being equal in point of number, neither tribe would yield its claim, and it is thus that the opening of our story finds them arrayed against each other.
It is on the morning following the night of storm that we would lead the reader into a temporary encampment of the Arapaho Indians.
The encampment was well located upon a hillside, and surrounded on all sides by the forest. The lodges were arranged in rows or streets facing a small square. In the center of the square stood the council lodge, and that of the prophet. On each side of the prophet’s lodge stood a small one which bore evidence of having been lately placed there.
The storm had cleared away and there were few traces of it remaining in the Indian encampment. The sun was shining brightly, and a cool, pleasant breeze was drifting through the forest.
The Indians were astir quite early. Something of unusual occurrence prevailed in the encampment. The two small tents by the prophet’s lodge seemed to be the point of attraction.
Presently the door of the prophet’s lodge was thrust aside, and the great prophet made his appearance. He was a white man, and no other than Dick Sherwood, the handsome, villainous renegade.
From his lodge the prophet turned to the one at the right, which he entered without ceremony.