“My braves have gone to the cliff,” he said, “because that was the wise thing to do. Black Wing, who should be chief of the Yelping Crew, has gone with them, and soon there will be peace instead of war between the Apaches and the Comanches.” The king of scouts tried to guess the riddle the chief was attempting to explain, but it was beyond him. He looked at Alkali Pete, and caught a wink that expressed contemptuous incredulity. Thunder Cloud imperturbably went on: “The great white warrior fails to understand. He does not know that Black Wing, who came from Mexico to be the chief of the Yelping Crew, was unable, when he reached the cliff to-day, to induce the Comanches to come out and treat with Thunder Cloud.” “The Yelpers did not want peace, then?” said Buffalo Bill. “They were under the spell of the white man who has been acting as their chief, and they would not listen to Black Wing, though he is a Comanche, and had been sent for to become their chief.” “Good thing they didn’t, for they would have been led to a massacre. But who is this white man who possesses more power than Black Wing?” inquired the king of scouts innocently. Thunder Cloud frowned. “The great white warrior must not speak with a forked tongue. He knows who the white man is, for he was with the Comanches this morning.” “Yes, I do know,” replied Buffalo Bill quickly. “I wanted to learn whether or not you knew him.” “No, Thunder Cloud does not know the name of the white man. He has never seen the white man’s face, and Black Wing was not taken into the white man’s confidence.” The Apache chief paused, expecting that the king of scouts would volunteer the information that Black Wing had failed to obtain. But Buffalo Bill maintained a severe silence. The revelation of the identity of the acting chief of the Yelping Crew came from Alkali Pete. Buffalo Bill was looking out of the window when the lanky plainsman spoke. “Did ye ever hear uv a man by ther name uv Wild Bill?” he asked. “He’s shore ther hombre.” Thunder Cloud started, and it was plain that the announcement unpleasantly affected him. “The sworn enemy of the Apaches, the white devil who shoots to kill. Yes, Thunder Cloud has heard of him.” He ceased speaking, and looked sadly, reproachfully at Buffalo Bill. The king of scouts met the look serenely. “Are you at last earnestly desirous of making peace with the Comanches?” he asked. The chief nodded. “Thunder Cloud has done forever with Black-face Ned, and he now desires to live in peace with both white man and red man. Did not Thunder Cloud say as much when he left the great white warrior at the mouth of the tunnel?” “Yes, you did, chief, and I accept your statement. Peace you shall have. Wild Bill is a friend of mine, and if I can get speech with him, I’ll soon bring him round to my way of thinking. But you haven’t yet told me how Black Wing purposes to act.” “He will gain the cliff stronghold, and there wait for the coming of the Comanches.”