“Never better.”
“I have another plan, then,” said the scout.
“Name it.”
“You and Nick take all the horses and repair to your castle and I will await Cayuse. I am anxious to know what is the object of all this chin music.”
At midnight Cayuse had not returned, and the scout once more approached the encampment, having some misgivings regarding Cayuse’s escape. He feared the daring boy had been overzealous in his work and had fallen into the hands of the red warriors. Cody realized that on such occasions as this a prisoner would receive short shrift at the hands of these red men on the way to war.
The scout wished to learn where Sitting Bull himself could be found. He did not expect to find the famous chief with this war party, but farther south; but hoped Cayuse would learn much from the conversation of the chiefs and the harangues of the silver tongues.
Were Sitting Bull present Buffalo Bill would not hesitate to walk boldly into camp. But the scout did not care to take a long journey to the presence of the chief in the company of the red men. He did not like their food or their manner of serving it.
Slowly and cautiously the scout worked nearer the fires, where the festivities were going on as if there had been no break. Confident in their numbers and knowing that no strong government force would be in that part of the country, they cared little for the annoyances of prying settlers who might come to seek revenge for the loss of stolen stock or the murder of a family.
Suddenly before the scout the tall form of an Indian appeared as if by magic.
The scout would have sprung upon the red man to check any outcry, but was halted by a whispered word: