Then, lest the settlers should really be surprised, and the Indians take the camp without his aid, Ricardo gave a low order, and under cover of the bank, the Brotherhood approached until they could indistinctly see the dark mass upon the water, which they knew to be the swimming warriors. In the encampment all was quiet as the grave, and every glimmer of light had disappeared; but, whether it was from negligence in keeping guard, or from watchfulness, none knew. However, the chief felt that he had to be wary, for Captain la Clyde was known to be an expert and daring fighter, and might be setting some trap in which to catch his enemies. Slowly and steadily the moving mass of heads swerved shoreward, the waters undisturbed by a single ripple, so quietly did the Indians swim, and at last several tall forms reached the shore and stood upright. Others followed, and the braves were preparing for the deadly rush, their hearts beating with joy at the hope of success. “Aim true, men; let every shot tell. Fire!” In answer to the low, stern order of the bandit chief, a terrible volley rang forth from the river bank, and a withering hail of lead was poured upon the human mass, who seemed to sink beneath the deadly assault. Then rang the stentorian voice of Red Dick. “At them, you red devils! Cut them into pieces.” Rallying around their brave but wicked chief, the Dog Soldier Sioux, in spite of their deadly greeting, and fully relying upon the support of the Branded Brotherhood, rushed up the embankment, to be again driven back by the terrible fire poured upon them by the settlers. Coolly, and with a cruel smile upon his lips, and deadly hatred in the glitter of his eyes, Ricardo stood with folded arms, gazing upon the combat, unmoved by the scene of bloodshed his double treachery was causing. “Ha, ha, ha!” he laughed. “Did Red Dick think I, Ricardo, chief of the Branded Brotherhood, would share a prize with him and his red hounds? Little does he know me!” For some moments the fight continued; the redskins, encouraged by Red Dick and his conspicuous courage, fighting as seldom men fight in a bad cause. Then even Indian human nature could stand no more, for half of their number had fallen. Yet no cheering cry came from the other side of the camp to show that Ricardo had attacked, as he had promised. Suddenly a warrior glided to the side of Red Dick, and said a few words in a hasty and excited tone, and the renegade’s voice rang out loud and clear: “Back, warriors! to the water all of you, for the Branded Brotherhood have betrayed us, and are laughing at us now.” Red Dick spoke in the Sioux tongue, and well did his dusky braves understand him. Seized with a panic of fear, they rushed headlong into the water, uttering yells of terror. Then again was heard the ringing order from Ricardo’s trumpetlike voice: “Fire upon them, men! Kill every red hound.”