Instantly the strange chief standing so motionless in their presence threw the war-bonnet aside and dropped the corner of the blanket which muffled his face. Buffalo Bill stood revealed. A deep murmur ran around the lodge, and it was half of surprise, half of admiration for the bold paleface who had redeemed his word to the White Antelope. Fearlessly the scout stood before his redskin foes, his eyes fixed upon the face of Oak Heart.
“It is well,” said the old Sioux. “The Long Hair’s life was forfeit when he was held by Death Killer. He has gone to his people; he has returned as he said. Now he must die.”
But Buffalo Bill never changed color. White Antelope started forward, her richly tinted face paling. It was a moment before she controlled herself and stood calmly to speak as an Indian should.
“Let the White Antelope speak!” said Oak Heart quietly.
The girl, in rapid, burning words, related her capture by Boyd Bennett and his death at the hands of the scout. The treachery of the renegade was proved. Buffalo Bill had been the medicine chief’s prisoner. Why should the Sioux hold the captive of a creature so dishonored?
Her plea evidently made some impression, but all eyes turned upon Oak Heart, and at length the old chief spoke.
“The Long Hair is a mighty paleface chief. He has trailed the red man to his village, and his belt is heavy with the scalps of my braves. He came here under the war-bonnet of a Cheyenne chief, and has saved the White Antelope from death.
“But the Long Hair has long been a foe to the Sioux. It was he who brought help to the white soldiers in the fort when we would have beaten them. It was he who took them ammunition. It was he who stole our ponies.
“The Long Hair has ofttimes looked on death. He is not afraid of death. He must show my warriors how a brave man [can] die.”
For the first time since entering the lodge, Buffalo Bill spoke: