“We want to come inside the fort to discuss terms of surrender with you.”
“This fort will never surrender while I am in command,” the colonel answered, “and we will hold no talk with renegades and murderers. Go back to your redskin allies at once, unless you want a bullet through your head!”
The renegade had expected this answer, but he had had a lingering hope that he might have been allowed inside the fort on the pretense of discussing terms of surrender, and then he would have been able to gain some valuable information as to the number of the garrison and the strength of the defenses.
His disappointment showed plainly in the vicious grin which flitted for a moment over his evil face. His left eye, which had a squint, glared horribly.
It was this defect that had gained for him his Sioux name, Bad Eye.
He shook the rein of his horse, and tried to urge the animal right underneath the wall of the fort; but before it had advanced three steps a bullet from Buffalo Bill’s rifle cut a feather from the headdress of the rider.
As Kennelly hastily reined his horse back, Buffalo Bill sang out:
“The next bullet will go through your head, Bad Eye, unless you clear out at once. The white flag was never meant to protect such scoundrels as you are.”
Seeing that nothing further was to be gained, the three men turned their horses and rode back to the ranks of the Indians.
Before he departed, however, the representative of the Cheyennes drew his scalping knife, and sent it hurtling through the air at the log wall of the fort, where it stuck, quivering. Then he raised his arm and uttered a defiant war cry.