“It’s no use for us to indulge in any hope, or to promise what we cannot do—and shall not attempt,” was the blunt retort.
“We certainly shall attempt it,” said Cody, with a dangerous gleam in his eye, as he drew out of his belt one of the few pistols possessed by the party, which had been confided to his care.
He did not level it at the man, but the latter read his meaning plainly enough, and quailed visibly.
“We must stand by our own comrade to the last,” Buffalo Bill went on quietly. “Pick up that oar and go on rowing.”
The man obeyed without a word.
CHAPTER XXXV.
A TALK FOR A LIFE.
It was after sunset when the white party reached the Indian village, where the red men had preceded them with their prisoner, and the former had not the opportunity of witnessing the first reception of the mournful news by the women and children of the tribe.