That was the difficulty. His pride was in the way of his good sense.
Murray did his best in the remainder of that ride, and his peaceful advice might perhaps have been taken if it had not been for the hot temper of the younger braves and the "war spirit" they found at the camp on their arrival.
"They're a venomous lot," said Murray to Steve, as he looked around him, while they were riding in. All the mixed "reserve" who could get ponies had mounted them and ridden out to meet their chief and his warriors. More than one squaw was among them, ready to ply bow and arrows, or even a lance, if need should be.
Rita, who was on the look-out, saw the party as it approached, and called out to Ni-ha-be:
"Where are your eyes? Don't you see who is coming?"
"Father? All the braves? Oh, Rita, there are Knotted Cord and Send Warning!"
They did not so much as guess how eagerly their faces were all the while sought for by the eyes of the two pale-faces.
"Do you see them, Murray?" had been the first thing Steve had said as they were riding in.
"Not yet. Be careful, Steve. If you see them, you must not speak to them. Contrary to rule."
"Not speak to them!"