They had orders to slay him on the spot if he made any attempt to break out of the lodge.
Black Panther knew this, and he was wise enough to keep still. But the flame of hatred in his heart burned more and more fiercely as the hours went by, and he vowed to himself that he would never rest until he had vengeance on his white opponent.
No man knew this better than Buffalo Bill, who was as familiar with the nature of the redskins as any white man can be.
Before he left the village with his friends, Running Water apologized profusely for the behavior of Black Panther, who, he said, had brought disgrace on all the band.
“He shall not remain with us,” the chief added. “He left us before. He shall go back to the band he joined. He shall not remain another day in the village.”
“Don’t drive him out on my account, chief,” said Buffalo Bill. “I bear him no ill will. It was the whisky that did it.”
“But he feel ill will to you,” replied Running Water gravely. “He kill you when he meet you, unless you kill him first.”
Buffalo Bill laughed.
“Well, I’ll do my best to look out for myself if I ever do meet him again,” he said.
“You better shoot quick,” was the parting warning of the chief to the border king, as he and his friends bade farewell and mounted their horses for the return journey.