“Now is your time to run for it!” he whispered, but Nomad hesitated, surprised when his bonds fell away.
“But you, Buffler?”
“I can’t go just yet. I must look out for these others. Perhaps I can release them, too.”
“Buffler, I can’t leave ye!”
“Perhaps I can release the others.”
But Buffalo Bill saw he could not do that. The white leader of the Indians was being brought up to the camp fire, that the light might be used in discovering his condition and giving him aid.
Buffalo Bill rolled quietly back to his position by the little tree, thrust the knife in his boot leg, and dropped the cords into position around his wrists.
“Bolt, before it is too late!” he whispered to Nomad. “I can’t leave these others. They need me. Perhaps you can find some way to help us, once you are free. Go, while you can.”
Old Nomad hesitated no longer. Rising while the attention of the Indians was given to the injured man, he gave a quick leap that took him round the tree to which he had been tied. Then, with a startling yell, that he meant should be heard by Nebuchadnezzar, he jumped away into the darkness, running with the sprightliness of a much younger man.
The astonishing escape of old Nick Nomad turned the attention of the Indians from their groaning leader. Rifles were hastily seized and shots sent hurtling after the escaping prisoner. A number of the Indians also started in hurried pursuit.