With this idea in his mind Leaping Dog went to his tepee, and made preparations for a long journey. He saddled his pony, and placed some provisions and his weapons upon it. This done, he stole quietly to the medicine lodge of Silver Fox.
He had made up his mind. He would slay his chief first, and then assassinate the white men. He had a violent hatred of all palefaces, and the blood of Nick Wharton alone would not satisfy his lust for revenge.
He listened outside the lodge and heard voices talking inside. The chief of the Navahos and his venerable host of the night had not yet gone to sleep. They were talking of the white men and praising them highly. Their words added fuel to the fire of hatred in Leaping Dog’s heart.
At last their voices ceased, and by the sound of their deep and regular breathing, the watcher concluded they were asleep.
Meanwhile, the three scouts had made themselves comfortable in their wigwam, and were talking over the events of the evening.
Cody and Wild Bill congratulated their old friend heartily on his victory over the redskin wrestler.
“Thet’s all right,” said Nick, “but thar’s goin’ ter be more trouble over that. Thet redskin is out fur blood.”
“If that’s the case, we had better not all go to sleep to-night,” remarked Buffalo Bill. “He did look pretty wicked. This is his chance to get even with us, for he knows we shall probably leave the village to-morrow.
“Of course, the tribe would punish him with death if he stuck a knife into any one of us, but when an Indian sees blood he isn’t going to stop out of fear of the consequences. We must take turns at keeping watch to-night.