Sergeant Fallon was perfectly calm under the ordeal he was passing through. He greeted the old chief most reverently and kindly, offered his hand to the outlaw, for he wished to feel his grip and remember it, and saluted the young son of Iron Eyes courteously, while he did not by any means ignore Fighting Bird.
But he lost no time in at once saying:
“I am here unexpectedly to-night, for I wish to tell the great chief that his foes are not sure that he has warriors camped here, and they intend to send out scouts on foot to cross the river and find out. By drawing your braves far back, putting out your camp fires, and not one being seen, the scouts will come over and find no braves here.
“They will report this to their chiefs, and then when another night the force attempts to cross, the warriors of Iron Eyes will be here to ambush them.”
The words of the disguised sergeant were listened to in silence, but with great interest, and old Iron Eyes said:
“The Chief White Wolf speaks with wisdom, and my warriors shall at once draw back to cover.”
“Yes, it will be the very thing to do, for if the soldiers believe that you have withdrawn your guards from the fords, they will cross, hoping to surprise you, and dash upon an ambush and be beaten back right here, as they should be.”
“I would send couriers to the other bands, also, chief,” the outlaw joined in, “to have them also fall back for the night. Would you not, White Wolf?”
“It would be just what I should do, sir,” answered the sergeant.
Orders were at once given to put out the camp fires, get the ponies and camp outfit, and retreat over the range half a mile back.