Both were bound, hand and foot, and were lying on a little pile of hay, over which a blanket had been thrown.
To advance boldly into the light might precipitate a shot from some unseen guard. But every moment was precious. What should he do first? The sleeping sentry, heavily armed, was a dark-visaged, vicious-looking fellow. If Cayuse first attempted to release Pa-e-has-ka and Hickok and he was fired upon, he would be imperiling lives more valuable than his own.
But Little Cayuse’s head was clear, his determination strong, and his heart brave.
Advancing softly, Cayuse, expecting every instant to hear the crack of a revolver and feel the lead burning through his vitals, reached the lantern, and turned the blaze low.
The heavy breathing of the guard and the prisoners continued.
Very gently the keen knife of the Indian boy slipped through the bonds of Pa-e-has-ka. Then the ropes fell from the wrists and ankles of Wild Bill.
The three men slept on.
Cayuse hesitated for a moment, then slightly shook Pa-e-has-ka. The scout awoke to find Cayuse’s finger pressed to his lips.
Cayuse shook Hickok, and the latter would have started up and spoken but for the restraining hand of the Piute.
Into the hand of each Little Cayuse pushed a revolver, and then they understood. Pressing his mouth to the scout’s ear, Cayuse whispered: