After an hour’s tramp, they entered a narrow gorge, the western inlet to the valley. Ahead of them Buffalo Bill suddenly descried a tall, upright form coming toward them.
It was Red Hand. He bowed pleasantly to the party, pressed lightly the hand Ruth extended to him, and said simply:
“Come.”
Leading the way through the beautiful yet strangely wild glen, Red Hand turned, after a walk of a third of a mile, into a thick piece of timber, through which ran an indistinct trail. A still farther walk through the woods of two hundred yards, and before them arose the precipitous and lofty sides of the mountain, pierced by several narrow gorges, that appeared like lanes through the massive hills.
Into one of these chasms, for they were hardly anything more, Red Hand walked, and soon it widened into a perfect bowl, with towering walls upon every side. It was a fairy spot, where one would love to dwell and dream away a lifetime, far away from the cares of the world.
And there, sheltered against the base of the lofty hills, was a neat little cabin home—a hermitage in the hills. It was a humble abode, built of stout logs, and yet around it was an air of comfort, while the interior, consisting of two rooms, certainly looked cozy and most comfortable, for the furniture, though of rude manufacture, was useful, and around the walls were many articles of use and enjoyment, from rifles, knives, and pistols, cooking utensils, and a very fair selection of books.
“This was her home,” he said simply and meaningly, speaking to Buffalo Bill. “From here to his grave is but a short distance, and her going there has marked a distinct trail. And, friend Cody, last night I made strange discoveries.”
Turning to Captain Ramsey, Red Hand requested him to keep his party in the gorge. Promising to bring the anxious mothers, wives, sisters, and daughters good news, Buffalo Bill set out with Red Hand for the fort, which they knew, before many hours, would be the scene of a terrible border battle.
The scout even had his doubts as to a result in favor of the whites.
“Cody, if it comes to the worst, you can wait in the gorge until the Indians believe you escaped before the fight, and then make for the settlement with all haste.”