“At last I pretended to withdraw, with my men, but really lay concealed in the brushwood near the foot of the mountain until one of the Cave Dwellers came down, thinking we had gone. We captured him, and forced him to tell us what they were going to do with Red Cloud. He said they were keeping him for a sacrifice at their cannibal feast of Toshak.
“I sent two of my braves to bring the rest of the tribe to the spot, left the others on watch near the mountains, with the prisoner, and then followed you as hard as we could ride to give you Red Cloud’s message.
“I have heard much of your great deeds, oh Long Hair, and I thought that if anybody could rescue Red Cloud it would be you, who are his blood brother. But, indeed, it seems hopeless, for we are not birds that we can fly to the abode of the Cave Dwellers.”
“If they can climb up, we can,” said Buffalo Bill, with his usual brave confidence. “There must be a path, and we must find it.”
During this conversation they had been riding back to the ranch at a sharp canter, and they soon reached it. While food and drink were being served to the two Indians by the orders of the hospitable rancher, the border king told Nick Wharton and his host that he would have to postpone the hunting trip they had arranged, and go instead to the rescue of his blood brother.
“Have as good a time as you can while I’m away, Nick,” he said, “but don’t shoot everything in sight. Leave a little hunting for me to do when I get back.”
“Shuck my hide, Buffler!” exclaimed the old scout, in aggrieved tones, “but did you sagashuate that I was goin’ ter let yer go off by yer lonesome among those Injuns? I’m comin’ along, too, and if we don’t find some way ter flutter up that gol-durned mountain, call me a blamed tenderfoot.”
Ten minutes later Buffalo Bill, accompanied by Wild Bill and Nick Wharton, rode with the Indians to join the Navaho braves who had assembled at the foot of the Cave Dwellers’ mountain to rescue their chief.