Cayuse did not come near the scout, but hung around Navi, and apparently gave the scout no more attention than if he had been a thousand miles away. Nevertheless, not a move of the scout’s escaped the boy.
When Buffalo Bill walked toward him, Cayuse turned his back, folded his arms, and fixed his gaze on the opposite wall of the cañon.
“What’s the matter, Cayuse?” said the scout, laying a kindly hand on the lad’s bare shoulder.
“Ugh! Cayuse free, Nomad prisoner.”
The Piute never shifted his eyes from the cañon wall.
“What of that?” proceeded the scout, instantly catching the drift of the boy’s sentiments. “Better one free than both prisoners. When one is free he can help to release the other. Sabe?”
“Cayuse run,” breathed the boy; “run, all same scared coyote. Cayuse think Wolf-killer run, too, but not so. Wolf-killer captured.”
“I was afraid both you and Nomad had fallen, and I am glad to hear that Nomad is alive, even though a prisoner. Little Cayuse has acted like a true warrior in getting away and coming to tell me about Wolf-killer. Pa-e-has-ka thanks Little Cayuse.”
The boy’s pride, thus oddly humiliated, began to recover. He turned around face to face with the scout.
“Pa-e-has-ka think Cayuse did right?” he asked.