CHAPTER XXIX.
A GIRL’S WORD.
The instant the renegade uttered the threat, Buffalo Bill placed himself upon guard by drawing his revolvers and covering the scoundrel. His wounded arm was sore, but the nerves had recovered from the shock of the arrow-wound, and he could hold his gun steadily enough. The renegade was so near at best that the scout could not miss him!
But the scout did not shoot. The White Antelope with flashing eyes, sprang to the front, and she, too, aimed her arrow at Boyd Bennett.
The warriors—or the bulk of them, at least—were surprised by Buffalo Bill’s action, and their several weapons were in line for the scout’s heart before they noted the White Antelope’s action. Then several of them dropped their guns, and their facial expression was as foolish as it was possible for so stoical a set of faces to be!
For a moment the tableau continued. A sudden motion might have precipitated a bloody, though brief, conflict. Buffalo Bill, though pale, was stern and determined, his eyes riveted upon the face of Boyd Bennett. He felt that the girl was friendly to him, and he knew her influence among the Sioux.
“Why do you not bring that finger to the trigger of your rifle, Bennett?” he asked sneeringly. “It won’t go off otherwise.”
The girl looked at the warriors and commanded quickly:
“Let the braves of Oak Heart turn their weapons from the heart of Pa-e-has-ka, the paleface chief.”
To the delight of Buffalo Bill, the command was instantly obeyed. Much as they might have feared the power of the medicine chief, Oak Heart was greater, and his daughter was here as his representative.
That Boyd Bennett was nonplused by this move was plain. His face fell, and he lowered his own rifle. But the scowl of deadly hatred which he bestowed on the white man threatened vengeance at some future date.