Again and again the laughable performance was repeated, when suddenly the bear tipped over backward, kicked a few times, and died.
One of Skibo’s bullets had done its work, after all.
While watching the sport the keen eyes of Buffalo Bill had discovered a side show. His eye had suddenly caught a flash from the top of a bluff five hundred yards away, and he had kept watch of that point while apparently giving his whole attention to the fun in hand.
Falling back until he was in the rear of his pards, the scout quietly pulled his glass and studied the bluff. His suspicions were confirmed. Peering out from various hiding places were a score or more of Indians, who had been attracted by the hubbub.
They watched the performance with apparently increasing curiosity and amazement, even crawling out from their hiding places in order to acquire a better view.
When the bear sat up and howled so disconsolately they exchanged excited remarks and gestures, and repeated these every time the act occurred.
The climax came when the bear fell over dead. The Indians seemed dumb for a moment and then fled. Five minutes later the scout saw them darting around a bluff that sat out into the plain, and then disappear as fast as their ponies could carry them.
The Indians believed the boy had killed the enormous grizzly in some mysterious manner. They probably linked this with recent incidents in which the sound of a bugle had invariably spelled disaster for them.