But the missiles went wild. Their singing and hurtling in the trees seemed, however, to increase the scout’s speed, so that he almost flew, selecting the wildest and rockiest course for the line of his retreat.
As soon as he was clear of the village he shaped his course toward the point where he had left his horse.
Fortunately Buffalo Bill was a good runner. Moreover, he did not wish to be captured by the Sioux. He had a due regard for his own personal safety, and besides he had important information which it was necessary to carry to the camps of the white men.
He had not heard much in the Indian village, notwithstanding the great risks he had run to gain information; but what he had heard, together with the dancing and the drumbeating and the sight of the warriors in war paint, was enough to assure him that the Sioux meditated an early, if not an immediate, attack on the whites.
The dogs still pursued him, and kept up with him, though he began to drop the Indians. Turning at bay, the scout killed two more of the leading dogs, and again ran on.
The other dogs seemed to lose heart because of this and dropped back, though they followed along his trail and continued their yelping, thus aiding the Indians in their pursuit.
The rapidity of the scout’s flight brought him, after a time, to his horse.
“All safe and sound, old fellow, are you?” he said speaking to the animal. “Well, let them catch me now if they can! I have found out enough to show me that that girl wasn’t lying to me; and, when I meet her again, she will no doubt give me particulars of the Indians’ plans, as she promised. So, here we go!”
And away the scout sped through the silvery moonlight.