All this occupied much less time than it takes to tell it.
During this distraction, half a dozen Indians, who had been unhorsed, rose from their brush coverts and ran for their lives to gain the more substantial refuge which the ridge afforded. Four escaped, but two were dropped in their tracks before they could reach the shelter.
Though bullets had dropped all around the white men, none had been hit.
"Had enough?" said the sheriff. "Found the camp stronger than you thought, eh?"
Such seemed to be the case, for, after a long parley, which was held discreetly out of range, the band disappeared, leaving their dead on the prairie.
An attempt had been made to rescue the fallen, but the risk was too great, and it was given up.
The Indians had been gone some time before the little garrison crept carefully from under cover, for the Sioux were notoriously tricky and their apparent departure might simply be a ruse to put their enemies off their guard.
Finally, however, the sheriff turned to his men. "Casino," said he, "you, Singing Jim, and Calamity Jake follow their trail and see what becomes of them. If they start to come back you hump yourselves and let us know. You'd better go along, Hodson, and look after your stock."
The men appointed saddled up and started out without delay. The good wishes of those remaining went with them. It was a perilous undertaking, for there was no telling where the war party might be or what they might do.
After the scouts had left, guards were set to keep watch and prevent a surprise, though it was thought that there was little danger of an attack by daylight.