He drew out his handkerchief, tied it to the barrel of his rifle, and rode toward the Indians, waving his improvised flag of truce.
His action evidently surprised the Indians, but in a few moments three or four of them, who seemed to be chiefs, rode out to meet him.
The commander of the soldiers and two or three of his officers spurred their horses after the border king, and were by his side before he met the Indians.
“What in thunder are you up to, Cody?” the commander asked.
“I am going to try to work a bluff on them,” the border king replied. “We would stand very little show if it came to a fight. I want to hold them off until the Fort Larned people show up, or else bluff them into not fighting at all.”
“How on earth are you going to do that?”
Cody did not reply, for at that moment the Indian chiefs came up to him, and he turned to salute them with his usual dignified courtesy.
One of the redskins was the same old Crow chief who had spoken to him by the camp fire the night before, and had smoked the pipe of truce to give him his fair start.
“Greeting to you, Long Hair!” the Crow exclaimed. “Our tomahawks are thirsting for the blood of white soldiers. Why do you call upon us to delay the fight? Do you wish to surrender? It is useless, for our braves are determined to take the scalps of all your men. The Crows and the Cheyennes and the Sioux do not take prisoners.”
“Listen to my words,” replied Buffalo Bill, speaking in his most impressive manner. “My tongue is not forked, and my words are the words of wisdom and mercy. I have no hatred in my heart against your tribes, and I wish to save you from absolute defeat and annihilation.