“Hickok seldom gits mad, but when he does, look out! He don’t say very much, but when he opens up ev’ry word weighs er ton.”
Wild Bill’s reputation as a dead shot had penetrated every company of the army, and when the officers saw the tall, wiry, iron-nerved, steel-eyed scout they believed every word they had heard of his prowess. No man on the frontier, with the single exception of Buffalo Bill, was held so much in awe as was Wild Bill Hickok in those days, and with good cause.
In the finer, keener qualities of mental make-up only did the scout lead his famous pard. Buffalo Bill possessed an analytical mind and a natural mathematical sagacity. Wild Bill was practical, level-headed, and keen; quick as a flash in mind and body, and fear was minus in his make-up; but he deferred to his leader in matters of difficult solution.
The coyotes had stripped the bones of Mrs. Avery’s horse, but Buffalo Bill examined them critically. He could discover no other evidence of wound than the broken leg and bullet hole in the head. The bullet had not passed entirely through the skull of the animal, and with a hatchet he removed it. It showed to be a bullet from a .44-calibre army revolver. This was good evidence that Lieutenant Avery had shot the animal himself, after it had broken a leg. That the animal had been running toward the fort at the time of the accident was plain.
And right then the scout’s opinion of Lieutenant Avery advanced many per cent. A man who would pause under such stress as was apparent at the time of the accident to put a suffering animal out of its misery was no coward.
The scout believed also that right then and there the officer had dismounted from his own horse, which had galloped away, leaving the young couple afoot on the plain. Who took them away?—that was the part that must be unraveled. If treachery had been practiced, some one must suffer; if the officer and his bride had been captured they must be rescued; if dead, their bodies must be given decent burial.
The next step must be taken from the carcass of the horse. The scout held a consultation with Cayuse, beyond earshot of the military escort which had come to point out the place where Mrs. Avery had been thrown and her horse had ended its days.
Little Cayuse went down on the ground, while the others retired for some distance toward the fort and left him alone. Over and over the ground he went, each time broadening his circle, while the others smoked and watched.
At last the Piute began moving away across the plain, slowly at first and then faster, until he was going at that tireless lope which only an Indian trailer can follow.
Buffalo Bill dismissed the army men, caught up Navi’s lariat, and with his pards galloped after.