“After deserting you and Hare in the way I did,” the officer said to the border king, “I could never feel easy in my mind unless I saw the end of this business.” “It was not desertion at all,” replied Cody. “You only did what you thought was your duty to the women. But I shall be very glad of your company on the trip, all the same.” The Indian village was reached three days before the end of the period of reprieve which had been granted by the council to the captive. “I was beginning to grow nervous,” Hare confessed, as he shook hands warmly with Buffalo Bill. “I knew you would not desert me, but as the time drew toward an end I feared that you might have met with some accident that would delay you, or even prevent you from coming at all.” The man had been well treated by the Indians during his period of captivity, but he had been closely watched night and day. Even had he been disposed to disregard Cody’s advice against attempting to escape, he would have found no chance to do so. All of the Indians, from Running Water himself down to the youngest brave, were delighted with the presents. They fell short in no particular of the border king’s pictured descriptions. On the contrary, they exceeded the wildest anticipations of the red men. The horses and the rifles were particularly admired, for they were far better than any the tribe could get. But unfortunately there was one item of the ransom which led to trouble; it was the whisky. Buffalo Bill had hesitated whether he should bring it with him. He was much opposed to the selling or giving of fire water to the redskins, and had always fought bitterly against it. Sure enough, that night the whisky caused trouble, as it always does among palefaces as well as redskins. Buffalo Bill and his friend had arrived at the village in the middle of the afternoon, and by the time the Indians had finished inspecting the presents and talking with the whites it needed only about two hours to sunset. Buffalo Bill proposed to start on his journey back at once, taking Hare with him. He feared that the Indians would indulge in a drunken orgy that night, and it might not be safe for the white men to remain in the village. At all events, there would be a risk of trouble, for the worst passions of the braves would almost certainly be aroused by the whisky. But Running Water would by no means hear of their going. Hospitable as ever, he begged Buffalo Bill and his friends to stay and take part in the great feast which would be held that night to celebrate the wealth that had come to his band. Buffalo Bill tried hard to get out of the invitation, but the chief and his braves were so insistent that in the end he was obliged to give way, very much against his will. The feast started early, and enormous quantities of meat were consumed by the gluttonous braves. Unfortunately enormous quantities of whisky were drunk also.