Old Nick only voiced the feelings of the other men. Even the stolid Pawnee friendlies, trained from their boyhood not to express their emotions, looked at Buffalo Bill in sheer amazement--but they said nothing in opposition to his command, and neither did any one of his white comrades. They all knew him well--and knew that when he gave an order he meant to have it obeyed. The conduct of the border king was fully justified toward the evening of that same day. As they were cresting a rise in the prairie the scouts saw the wagons of Mr. Doyle’s train about two miles away. Buffalo Bill’s keen eye at once perceived that something was wrong. The covers of the wagons were torn, the horses and mules were on the ground, prostrate, and one of the wagons itself was overturned. The cheeks of the king of the scouts blanched almost as soon as he topped the rise and got his first glimpse of the wagon train. “They have been attacked!” he gasped, between clenched teeth. “Heaven alone knows what has happened to them! Forward, boys, at the gallop!” Setting the example, he dug his spurs into the horse--a thing which he did only under stress of the direst necessity--and shot forward from his party like an arrow from the bow. They were a hard-riding set--those scouts and Pawnees--but the Texan beat them all. Jack Mainwaring alone kept up with Buffalo Bill in that wild ride across the prairie toward the wagons. Even Wild Bill, one of the hardest riders ever known on the great plains, was left well behind. But Jack Mainwaring had the spur of love to urge him on, and to make him take out of his horse all the speed it had--even at the risk of killing the animal. When, in an incredibly short time, they came up to the wagons and leaped off their panting horses, a terrible sight met their eyes. All the horses and mules attached to the train were dead. Some of them had been pierced by bullets, others by Indian arrows. The frontiersmen who had driven the teams and guided the party were stretched on the ground beside the animals in attitudes which showed that they had died only after making a bitter and desperate fight for their lives. This, indeed, was proved by even plainer evidence; for around them were the bodies of more than a score of dead redskins. “Shawnees!” exclaimed Buffalo Bill, after a single glance at one of these bodies. “This is Evil Heart’s work.” “Where is May?” gasped Jack Mainwaring. Buffalo Bill looked at the young man, and saw that his lips were quivering under the stress of his strong emotion. He dared not answer him, for he felt that he could give him no reply which would hold out any hope of the safety of the girl he loved. Instead of speaking, he started to search around, in the long grass of the prairie, for the bodies of the girls. In this search he was speedily assisted by Wild Bill and the rest of his party, who came dashing up after him.