His weapons were quickly distributed among them. Midnight fell to the possession of a brawny savage, another of the party claiming the very handsome Mexican saddle and bridle, which were profusely decorated with silver. Finding that the outlaws were his superior in strength, owing to their rifles, the redskin chief withdrew his party toward the hills, content with scalping a renegade in Indian toggery, who had fallen under their fire. But, as they retreated toward the hills, with the outlaws sullenly retiring, they saw the man they had scalped spring unexpectedly to his feet, and run for his comrades, who at once started to his rescue, expecting the Indians would attempt to capture him. But the savages had his scalp, and cared little for him, and he reached the band in safety, a piteous sight to look at, and told how he had heard of the capture and death of Buffalo Bill. “Haddock, for those cheering words I would give a year of my life to save you; but you are badly wounded, besides being scalped, and--hold him up, men, for he’s falling!” Before any one could catch the man he fell dead on the prairie; and, remembering only himself, Kent King muttered: “Now I can return to the train and continue on to Denver. Then, my sweet Mary Hale, we meet again, and you will have no champion knight to protect you, for the coyotes will feast upon him, and the vultures will flap their wings in his handsome face. By Heaven! Sioux, I could almost love you for the service you have done me, and grasp your hands in fellowship.” Giving his instructions to the band of outlaws, he returned to the people whom he was deceiving under his disguise of a parson--a veritable wolf in the clothing of a lamb. CHAPTER XVII. A FOE’S GRATITUDE. When the chief of the Sioux band entered the hills, and came to the spot where Buffalo Bill still lay insensible, he glanced into the upturned face and then at the long hair, and said, quickly, in his native tongue: “It is Pa-e-has-ka, the white brave; my warriors have done well not to touch his scalp or kill him, for he served me long moons ago.” Bending over the scout, who showed signs of returning consciousness, he quickly stripped the sleeve from his arm and skillfully checked the bleeding of the wound. Then he dashed water in the scout’s face, and the eyes of Buffalo Bill, opening, met the savage countenance above him. But he showed no sign of fear, and simply said in the Sioux tongue: “Rain-in-the-face, is it you?” “It is the Sioux chief, whose son’s life you once saved near Fort Laramie; the chief has not forgotten Long Hair.” “Do you intend to kill me?” asked the scout. “Is the heart of Rain-in-the-face so bad that he would kill one who saved his son from death?” “The chief has a good heart to remember; but I am sick and weak, for I cannot rise.” “My warriors shall aid you.”