Buffalo Bill sat down on the ground, and impatiently awaited the coming of Colonel Hayden, Sybil, and Alkali Pete.
“When they come,” he said to himself, “I’ll consider the case of Black-face Ned. The scoundrel must be captured, and it ought to be an easy stunt to catch him, for he can’t travel fast on account of his wound.”
The chief had not been gone ten minutes before a series of savage yells smote the air. They came from the direction of the castle, and the king of scouts sprang to his feet, anger and alarm in his eyes.
A discharge of firearms followed the yells, and more yells came on the heels of the shots.
A fight was in progress, and it was clear to the mind of Buffalo Bill that the Apaches were being attacked by the Comanches led by Black Wing and Wild Bill.
Doubtless the Comanches were acting under a prearranged plan. Alkali Pete had been sent out as a scout, and the Comanches were to follow him unless he should return and counsel a different action. He had not returned, and the Yelping Crew were now at the castle, and yelping for all they were worth.
The king of scouts was angry because the well-meant attack of the Yelpers might defeat the program agreed upon between himself and Thunder Cloud. It was not likely that the Apache chief would return with the prisoners while the castle was being besieged by a savage enemy.
Buffalo Bill looked about him, and, observing a log lying on the ground near the bowlder that had recently been his place of shelter, he lifted it and placed it against the high stone wall of the castle inclosure.
He “shinnied” up the log, reached the top of the wall, and looked down into the spacious yard of the castle.
Not an Indian could be seen.