“We are able to handle five hundred redskins, Cody,” said the officer, eager for a fight.
“But not when they are established on both sides of the trail and it is dark and the forest is too thick for you to maneuver horses. No, no, captain! Be advised by me.”
“I suppose you are right, Cody.”
“And, besides, you will be able to deliver a heavier blow [to] Oak Heart’s gang if you fall upon them unexpectedly; and then, when these ambuscaders rush in, you’ll be ready to cut them to pieces, too.”
“Right you are, scout. You are sure of the way?”
“Confident. It’s a bit rough, but I could find it with my eyes bandaged.”
“Lead on, then, scout.”
“And no bugle-calls,” warned Cody. “Pass the word to the men. We don’t want these reds, waiting in the cañon, to suspect that we are stealing a march on them.”
Fortunately, the troops did not have to take the back track. The path by which the Border King was to lead them to their destination branched off this main trail into the hills. Over the rough way they rode, and soon the eastern sky began to grow gray. Dawn was approaching, and the increased light made the path vastly easier of traveling.
Buffalo Bill and Captain Taylor rode some distance ahead of the troops. The cavalry could go only as fast as the guns and ambulances could keep up, so the band moved necessarily slow.