A circle was formed with the horses on the outside, and then wherever the flash of a gun was seen a bullet was immediately sent.
Several men had been wounded at the first onset, and one horse was killed. Other horses were suffering from wounds.
It looked as if the entire party would have to remain as they were until morning unless some one could pass the Indian line and bring aid from the town.
The scout felt sure it was some war party bound south who had discovered this strange caravan of palefaces, and hoped to reap a fine collection of scalps, and then go on before the soldiers could strike back.
The Indians had completely surrounded their intended victims before their presence was known.
Little Cayuse volunteered to attempt to crawl through the Indian lines. If any living being could do it Cayuse was the one, but Buffalo Bill consented reluctantly. There might be a chance, but a hundred to one it meant sure death for him who attempted it.
The war party was evidently a strong one, as the long line indicated. That they were Sioux and thirsting for blood there could be no doubt.
Little Cayuse shook hands with the scout and all his pards, then threw his arms for a moment around Navi’s neck, and slipped away under the bellies of the horses and out into the grass toward the zone of spitting fire and lead.
The scout had almost decided to call to Cayuse to come back when another surprising thing distracted the attention of all for the moment.
To the northward was heard the well-known yell of the Crow warriors and the roar of many fiercely galloping hoofs.