“It is just,” admitted the Indian solemnly. “Let us go.”
He led Cody then to the hidden path which would enable the scout to pass all of Death Killer’s sentinels and, indeed, most of the guards of the village, and so ride almost into the encampment itself without being seen. Then, without a word further, the young brave turned his face toward his father’s lodge.
Buffalo Bill sat down and smoked his pipe while he watched him along the trail into the valley. He could watch Red Knife for a long distance before the young man came out upon the bluff which overlooked the valley where the encampment lay. Until that time he could not be seen from below.
Suddenly Buffalo Bill saw a figure among the rocks near the path which Red Knife was following. It was of another Indian, but the scout could not see the man’s face—not even with the aid of his field-glasses. Red Knife seemed totally unconscious of the other’s presence until suddenly the stranger leaped before him and stood in his path.
“Hello!” muttered Cody. “What’s all this?”
It was evident that the two redskins conversed excitedly. What they said, of course, the scout could not even guess. Indians are usually so self-repressed that the scout could not judge at this distance whether they spoke angrily or in the most pleasant way together.
It seemed, however, as though the strange redskin tried to urge Red Knife to wait, but the young brave was determined to go on down into the valley. At last he seemed almost to break away from the other and push on toward the edge of the bluff. Cody knew that neither of the actors in the drama below could be seen from the village.
Red Knife was determined, and left the one who had accosted him. The latter shrank back and watched him for a moment. Then suddenly Cody saw him gather himself, jerk the tomahawk from his belt, and swing the weapon high in the air!
Cody caught himself from crying out, but he did leap up as the fatal blow fell. The strange Indian cast himself upon Red Knife’s back and clove the unconscious red man’s skull with a mighty blow of the hatchet. Red Knife went down in a heap!
Cody pulled himself together and, through the glass, watched the traitor stoop over the fallen man, strip the scalp from his head, and then dart away among the rocks. Steeped in guilt as he was, the scout knew the villain would not remain near the scene of his atrocious act. Therefore he risked going down to the place himself.