“What time was that?”
“Middle sleep.”
“Well, Hickok has always shown great ability to take care of himself, but if he doesn’t turn up in the morning we’ll take a look down that way to-morrow.”
“Cayuse better go now?” asked the boy, his black eyes containing more of appeal than his words.
“No, not to-night, boy; but in the morning after you have rested and slept.”
“Ugh! Cayuse all same not squaw,” complained the Piute, as he sought his hammock, for he could not be induced to sleep in a white man’s bed.
Wild Bill had not arrived in the early morning, so Buffalo Bill and his three pards set out, their horses in fine fettle for the gallop into the foothills. They first visited the encampment of Crows who were peddling beads and baskets, and got a good description of Wild Bill, also the man of whom he was in pursuit and known to the Indians as Bloody Ike.
At noon they were far into the hills and had discovered evidences of recent human occupancy of the mouth of an abandoned mining shaft.
They entered and explored for some distance, but decided that the bird had flown.
Outside again Cayuse left the others, and his pinto took up the work of trailing with exceeding care. Half an hour later he returned and hurried Pa-e-has-ka away to look at a discovery.