He crept to the edge of the bushes and lay still. There would be a council called at once, he knew, and he would be sent for, but he was determined to wait and see what was done with the prisoners.
They were the great To-la-go-to-de and his three chiefs, none of them hurt to speak of, but they were all that were left of the foremost rank of the Lipans in that brief, terrible combat.
Other braves kept back the mob of squaws and children, while the four distinguished captives were almost carried into one of the lodges at the border of the bushes.
Here more thongs of strong deer-skin were tightened upon their helpless limbs, a strong guard of armed braves was stationed in front of the lodge, and the Lipans were left in the dark to such thoughts as might come to them.
Not an Apache among their guards dreamed that anything could happen to the captives. And yet, within two minutes from the time he was spread upon his back and left alone, old Two Knives heard inside the lodge a low warning hiss.
His companions also heard it, but neither of them was so unwise as to answer by a sound.
The hiss was repeated, and now it was close to the chief's ear.
"Friend come. No Tongue is here. Great chief must be snake. Creep through hole in back of lodge. Find plenty horse. Ride fast. Get to pass. Never forget friend. No Tongue come some time."
Even while he was whispering, the sharp edge of Murray's knife was busy with the thongs, and in a moment more all four of the prisoners were free—free to lie silently, while their friend repeated to each in turn his advice as to what they were to do next.
