A silent bound, a dull thud, and the buck rolled over without a moan. The Laramie man’s revolver butt had descended true and hard.
Hickok acted quickly. He cut the lariats of the horses, hitched Bear Paw’s line to his own saddle, and was just swinging into the saddle when there was a surprised “Ugh!” behind him, a shot, and Buffalo Bill’s right bower darted out upon the plain like a whirlwind, with the whole Indian encampment behind him in wild turmoil.
CHAPTER XXIII.
IN THE SIOUX CAMP.
Buffalo Bill examined the ground closely where he and Hickok had tethered the horses the previous evening. He went over the ground inch by inch in search of a clue to the cause of the Laramie man’s disappearance. He knew that only some extraordinary occurrence would have called Hickok from the place before his—Cody’s—return.
At last he found one of the hitch pins where Hickok had thrown it, several rods from the space the horses had grubbed.
“That is rather peculiar,” he said. “I don’t understand why Hickok should have thrown the pin away, and if it was the work of Indians I don’t see how it came here unless the horses were scared, and jerked the pins from the ground, and dragged them till they fell from the lariats. And again there are no tracks of horses in this direction, nor did the horses kick up any soil, as they would have done at the start-off, if frightened.”
He continued his search patiently, and was rewarded at last.
“Ah!” he exclaimed, “I have the key. Here is a moccasin track in a sandy spot, and close beside it the imprint of Bear Paw’s barred shoe. I think some thieving red saw us put out the horses, and after dark sneaked up and quietly led them away. It is evident that Hickok discovered they were gone and has attempted to follow them in the night, although what he expected to accomplish in the darkness is more than I can tell.”