At last Price himself appeared and, looking in, sang out:
“Well, Cayuse, you red dog, how do you like it? Guess Buffalo Bill himself can’t save you this time. These red brothers of yours are planning on a sort of Thanksgiving celebration, and you are to be the roast turkey. Never mind, though, Piute, when I see Cody I’ll tell him you cried like a spanked papoose and wanted to go home to ma.”
Price turned away, grinning, but if Cayuse made any reply it was so low that the scout could not hear it.
The pards withdrew, at last, to some distance from the village, where they could talk over what they had seen.
After comparing notes they decided to await darkness and once more visit the village. They had spent many hours in reconnoitring the camp, and night was at hand by the time they had paid their compliments to the haversacks.
The Indians seemed to have gathered around the camp fires between the rows of tepees to listen to the stories of the day’s hunt by the returned warriors. They had killed twenty buffaloes and had had a brush with a great army of pony soldiers.
The Indians had called at the sacred mountain to leave a tender young cow buffalo for the daughter of the moon, when they saw the pony soldiers approaching.
There were hundreds of the white warriors, according to their tale, and the red men had attacked them and slain many, but had escaped without a wound themselves. The white warriors were coming to make offering at the sacred mountain, the red men believed.
Price and Ike were present, and the former made a speech setting forth the valor and bravery of the red warriors, and telling them that the white men were becoming afraid of the Sioux braves and would be swept back across the great river and forever leave the plains for the Indians. He was cheered and the cowskin drums were beaten wildly.
But while this was going on Buffalo Bill and Hickok had not been idle. They readily selected the tepee in which Cayuse was confined, and a sharp knife running down through the buffalo skin back gave no sound that could be heard above the hubbub at the fires.