Thunder Cloud started, and it was plain that the announcement unpleasantly affected him.
“The sworn enemy of the Apaches, the white devil who shoots to kill. Yes, Thunder Cloud has heard of him.” He ceased speaking, and looked sadly, reproachfully at Buffalo Bill.
The king of scouts met the look serenely. “Are you at last earnestly desirous of making peace with the Comanches?” he asked.
The chief nodded. “Thunder Cloud has done forever with Black-face Ned, and he now desires to live in peace with both white man and red man. Did not Thunder Cloud say as much when he left the great white warrior at the mouth of the tunnel?”
“Yes, you did, chief, and I accept your statement. Peace you shall have. Wild Bill is a friend of mine, and if I can get speech with him, I’ll soon bring him round to my way of thinking. But you haven’t yet told me how Black Wing purposes to act.”
“He will gain the cliff stronghold, and there wait for the coming of the Comanches.”
“Where are the Comanches now?”
“They are at the back of the castle, crouching against the wall near the door, and waiting for the door to open, or——”
“Or what?” as Thunder Cloud paused.
“Or for some signal from the great white warrior, Pa-e-has-ka.”